When I woke up, I saw that my dream left me a gift: fistfuls of seeds. I know some are poison, some are fruitful. Some will flourish and some will flounder, and each is one of a kind. And as I hold that space between sleep and awarenes, the potential and the responsibility of what to do with them is not lost on me. Trying to sort them, analyze them, or predict them will drive men mad. My gift is the excitement of not knowing not what I sow, and that the only way to lose in this game is fearing to plant. Their natures are mysteries, and what better passtime for a seeker of truth?
My Teachers & Influences, What was it about them that influenced me?
The enemy is my only teacher, for it is only the enemy who can expose my weaknesses. The enemy is my shadow, and I am his shadow, and we are in love.
Authors and/or Books I appreciate
Neal Stephonson (Cryptonomicon, Diamond Age, Anathem)
Orson Scott Card
The Canadian Electrical Code Book (2012 is my favorite)
The DSM VII
John Makowichuk (an up-and-comer with potential)
Musicians and/or Music I appreciate
The Tragically Hip
The Dire Straits
Films and/or Film-Makers & Actors I appreciate
Artists and/or Art I appreciate
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