From: Dan Curtin (firstname.lastname@example.org) To: email@example.com Date: Fri, 24 Nov 2000 12:56:44 -0500 (EST) Subject: A thought. Squinting my eyes to see the substance within the hollow. I was told of abstract projections that would often keep my mind occupied, but my heart frozen. I walk between two fences wondering if I am being led to slaughter. Feeling enclosed and heavy under a sky that they call beautiful. Debating whether its' massive opposition against limitation keeps those of us behind bars truly free. Remembering when I was scolded and forced to march up creaking stairs with such a systematic aura. Declaration of submissive fields to which I try to avoid. Outcasting ones body due to the contamination of a single society to which is so familiar. Dependence on a window.. on the otherside a drab painting. Sometimes I can swear I have permanently left my body and began to travel into a void where the immense pain has departed with a fragile stain. I then get interrupted by a tapping at my window.. torture stands there looking in. -Daniel J. Curtin
Can we call you "MoonUnit"?