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February 2, 2012
The trees are black veins against the peach-colored skin of the sunset. Leafless and twisted, they sink their sharp fingers into the sky and drain it of light. Down, down the light travels, through the roots, into the ever churning heart of the earth, and finally, spilling out onto a new horizon.

One side dark. One side light.

This is the network of the soul, the process of life. A forever changing, forever flowing, forever balanced act of give and take and give again. There is no magical number, no words of power. There is just all and nothing.