How deep…

… to be mired in Whitehead Crossing at this stage in my life? I can’t *move* there. I never will. I can meditate there. I have several medi-spots already assigned (head of This Stream has no Title and mouth of same, for instance — this is the one in front of Grey Rock). Head and foot again… Beginning of life… end. I’m going to be thinking of that darn…

Hucka D.:

Hellow. Dwelling again.

bb:

Not really. Not much. Just don’t want to write the text to my Land of Blue and Purple posts tonight. Listening to Satie. He’s a strange dude.

Hucka D.:

Mellow.

bb:

What’s the [Land of Blue and Purple] Totem, Hucka D.?

Hucka D.:

Alien language. Lined up with the Bridge Between Purple and Blue.

bb:

Yes that was odd. Pointing right to The Totem.

Hucka D.:

Protected by briars. Protected from man. Like you. But you see still. For you. For you to see still. It is Purple.

bb:

It is on… wait, I’m going to make a map.