Lately, I have been obsessed with volcanoes. I am filled with a great desire to leap onto the first plane to Hawaii, rent a boat, and sit out on the ocean, some yards away and watch, bobbing on night waves, a volcano spurt and bubble magma rivers.
I feel the urge to smell the sulfur and watch the magma trace, melt, down the mountain in glowing rivulets. I feel a part of me straining to send cries of triumph in the air as I watch victorious humility seep out of the skin-- even mountains melt.
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