There were colors without words and sounds that were colors and time was... Nothing was time. Time was nothing. Years were centuries. Growing was all. But dying was all. Feeling the ground wasn't feeling, it just was. The wind moved leaves, but that didn't. It simply didn't. It was. It was and it didn't.

Wow, that whole section really affected me. To me, there was a sense of real urgency to this post: a sense of not knowing what would be said next, and not knowing what to expect, but anticipating that some huge, dramatic twist was just waiting around the corner all the time: a sense of tension building up, bit by bit, until it was almost unbearable. I love it when someone's work draws me in and keeps me on the edge of my seat as powerfully as this has!