![]() Age fourteen at the turn of the 21st century, my vision of the millennium was not of candy-colored desktop computers or the mirrored titanium effect of unidentified flying objects. The 1980s are here and the 1990s with them but the millennium glow is coming on hard and fast. ![]() Globular shapes and that impossibly alien, impossibly pale blue light. I feel it, eyes open, palms open, hands gathered to cup the flow of water and electricity that pours from algorithms and television screens. I don't dream of halcyon because I was not built for the stillness. ![]() Like boys in hospitals, these are the truths unique to each of us. If we are all things bound by soft skins to hold what precious breath and light we are given for the brief time that we are here, then it stands to reason that there is a canon to us all.
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