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July 10, 2016
There's a large pack of small grey dogs running past, snarling and barking at nothing I can see. The sky is flat blue. Air is still, dry and hot. A large cockroach is staring at my foot. It's all very strange. I feel at home. On the face of it an expression seems out of place. Feelings might flow in any direction or no direction. There are no buildings around. You can feel the people, but you can't see them. They can see you. This is what you feel, as well. You don't mind. It could go any which way.