imagine, if you will, that as the first four notes of Hits From The **** drift into consciousness, you see ahead, approaching fast, a beautiful upsweep of snow, a delicate cyclone that moves itself quickly from non-existence to existence and back.
women! we must unify and acknowledge that it is WE who are the creators, the nurturers, the peacemakers, and it is time for our unique power to be unleashed on a world run amuck. and we are |one|
i imagine us, my friends my family in need of asylum the unthinkable happening to us and wondering the lengths we would go to for each other and no imaginary government boundary could keep me from trying to save my family. i try to imagine my niece and nephew getting separated from my brother and sister put into an old Wal-Mart with fluorescent lights and metal cages surrounded by strangers with no comfort or stability that comes from being with those who love you enough to risk everything to save you. but my mind will not allow it. it is too unjust too disturbing and I don’t know how to wake myself from this nightmare.