Like static noise and spinning wheels is the sound we make as we head on the way to the high, parched, and burnt place. We travel early, before the sun dutifully rises, only to escape the dread of the mass. So through sleepy, sickly, and aching body, we make our way to the place of deserted dreams, the land of desperation and hopelessness. To see our friend (the long lost) who now we hardly recognize. Its been so long since our eyes have seen his countenance; his doesnt look the same, visage ... read more