a trumpet blast from the mountaintop as the man in robes descended upon my mother's house. speaking a tongue, i thought it was my father's... it was not. he handed me a box made of stone inside a bug, made of wood. and, as per his instructions, i put it in my mouth. however, once there, i found it crawled its way deep inside my eyeball. i reached in with my hand to retrieve it, but once there i found i required a branch, or a stick, or a hand of wood to retrieve such a wooden bug. my hand, made of flesh, was useless for such a task. and so, i retreated to the mountains, the land of my father, with the bug stuck so deep inside my eye i could not see and my hand stuck so deep inside my throat i could not speak there, blind and hungry, i pondering the wrongs done to me by the man in robes. he had tricked me, but this would not be the end of my story. and so, with my return, i had learned that for every entrance, an exit for every birth, a death. the man in robes had unjustly entered my life, and so he would exit it. (don't blame the sea if you can't find the seashore) i walked...