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April 21, 2008
I look out my wall of glass and all I see is juicy green life. Yet in my imagination is a dead place of sand and rock. I donít know why I keep returning to this desert place in my imagination because I have never lived in such a place to my knowledge, not even for a short time. Yet I can feel the waves of heat baking me, can see the air twisting into strange shapes, and can sense even the sand trying to crawl deeper into the earth to get away from the searing eyes of the sun.