Utopia

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing direction. You change direction, but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some menacing dance with death just before dawn . Why?  Because this strom isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you.  This strom is you. Something inside you.   So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step.  There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like crushed bones powder.  You really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic strom. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like thousand razor blades . People will bleed there an...