By Andrew Glikin-Gusinsky
A slip of paper, a vinyl seat.
Freedom lies within the dark waters that mingle with the bubbling amber.
The amber holds no truth however. It never did and there is no reason why one should continually look for it there, trapped within.
No, the truth remains locked within the burgundy tar that you will submerge yourself in once you reach the old ancestral spawning grounds that expelled you not nearly as long ago as you would like to believe.
You visit them often, trying to reclaim a sense of self that was ripped from you when you entered the world, when you stood among the Pink and the Grey.
