Tuesday, March 02, 2010
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Walking through the cars at Trastevere it is difficult to ignore the infinite-concentrate on concrete things. You just can't put it out of your mind; it flashes before your eyes, annoying and gnawing at you near white light. Sometimes the mind defocuses from daily tasks-Microsoft Outlook, Annual Performance Reports-into the soup that is where the emotion lives-the foggy incense of ideas you just can't quantify. It feels like death or the womb, or divine love. Is this what you were afraid of?