Born in endless fields of high prairie and corn. Tuned at a young age to bliss on the cliffs, red skies at the right times, smoke in my eyes.
Delighted by coincidence and impossibilities, distasteful of chance. Original sin is real but I breed anyway. Muscled my way to the top of a minor heap and took a bride, ran off for the hills to exist solely on thai noodles and ice cream. Returned to my blue city beside the moving waters, falling in love with every season all over again. Love my wife, love my baby, love my friends.

Who can ever survey the vastness of heaven?

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