Whale

Whale

Yesterday’s post was a hole where a ball goes. Today is a hole where a whale goes.   Where I am not is as telling as where I am.  You can know me either way, but both is better.  I hope to find and know me better in the writing.  It is not exactly me but it is what I know, what I see.  Whales breathe consciously–every breath is a decision.  These writings are my conscious exhale, the plume you see where I just was.  Other words for this?  Memory.  Dream.

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