FREQUENCIES TRAVELER SEPTEMBER 7, 2016 Pink zink. Calamine lotion. Spills... Splashes... Sloshing... Drying on the floor of my shopping bag. "That which is protected is evil dread," Voice said. "So, so, so very long ago. Even then, maybe already too late," Why was I seeing this inner vision. "Pinkish sunsets," My mind begins. 1980s. I'm thinking now: "One year or so -- maybe nine or ten months. One year too old for some purposes. One year shy of completion for other things. Timing. TIME. Something which is a construct. But then... if we are trying to function within a construct, then we are supplied with its elements and supposed limitations or opportunities. A game. A world. Only one world of potentials?" I hung up my shopping bag. Calamine would dry and seal the bottom. NEXT PAGE Copyright 2016-2022.Asha of Antares.Asha Ariel Aleia.All Rights Reserved. Background courtesy: Asha Ariel Aleia | |||||