Good day to you wonderful creatures of life and thought, how I am all so glad you have become part of this chaos we call life and love. For being a critter of life, it is wonderful to be alive and having the chance to just exist. It may be a odd thing to say but I would wonder if we are able to live and know of existence of mind trapped in a world of no sensations. That would be a hell like no other, to crave and desire just a touch, even pain would be desired as it would be at least a touch from another existence and not left to a void of all but you.

Onto the more happier things of the day, I have fixed my audio so I no longer have such a horrendous sounding recording. Some how a child voice over was added and on top a weird hissing noise. So now it is all fixed and sounds so much better and not a insult to the ears. It was that for sure, a heinous creation of vocal and recording that was out to murder the ears of all. So I hope I put down all recordings of it and now it lays in the decay of forgotten disease.

The rest of the day and most likely the night will be turning into more production time and used to make sure all other things are moving along like a sweet taste of the lozenge of love from grandmother. A task that is not brought through the menial, a task of memories, a task of dreams of younger humans that we once were before. That we wish we could become again, not beholden to time but a essence of timeless ambitions. Truly is a wonderful thing, regret and monitions of the past. We are the regrets of our past and the hopes that a future is not bound in the exiles of human thought, but in the heretic glow of change and devotions to bettering the world. However is that not what we have always been, a acidic breakdown of historical rhetoric to be a future of rhymes and notations of us all.

The day however has been kind and productions of the dailies is amazing, from puppy snuggles and cat leg bumps, to the fish who are always watching us and have thoughts of self grander much like us just in a smaller universe. The windows are beginning to slightly frost on the outside, thus I must check the fire downstairs to make sure the coals of life are not out. For the constraints of a house to the cold is strong but never infallible. For passages of glass leak such heat into the wild yonder of the white frozen landscape. Melting not but becoming the cold air and linking in fractals of ice. I wish the beauty of this land to all as I have begun to see why such things were mysteriums of both past and future minds. To have the entrapment of ice and snow to be the death of many in the tree wells but yet a preserver of life with insolation based in the same frozen water particulates, is a home under ground of the smallest of creatures. Warmth in the bosom of earth and yet we are to be the ones to build things ever so high in the wind of Icelandic spears and become even softer then the most smallest of our mammalian kingdom. We are human and human is what we will be.

But I must depart as par the usual is to be done, for night is my sacrifice to the world of of tranquility as it may give me yet more time on this world.

Much Love

Until Later

Your Friendly Ginger From The Woods.