This continued for 30 minutes. The centre of the storm had passed, moved on to torment or elate other descendants of its flock and I decided to walk home in the rain, with a smile on my face hearing once again the distant enraged rumblings of old gods that can never be forgotten. Leave a comment on Forgotten gods. Words are my breath and my blood. I breathe complex emotions and hopes for humanity. I haemorrhage out the pains and sadness of a world in torment.

The woman who follows the crowd, will usually go no further than the crowd. The woman who walks alone is likely to find herself in places no one has ever been before. One, Two, Three. This will blow your mind.

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