you walk with me still by morning gloom though resting in earthen tomb i see you in every cloud every tree and trail, every shadow passing in front of warm sun but you are not in these things, love; they do not carry you. i understand, now. you are part of me still and death itself is but a door, that soon i shall open, and together we'll walk, once more.
currently writing an idea for a television show about a hard working families struggles as they come to adulthood in a crowded building, somewhere in downtown New York City. Current working title "Little House on the Pei Wei."
I just love it. Two years ago, every scientist but 3 were screeching about how Asia was settled all at once.
Pfft. Then we found Denisovan DNA and matched it to a bunch of South Pacific Islanders. Now this DNA, which, supposedly, is even older. It's astonishing how ignorant even our best minds are, and just how convoluted our family tree is.