11/13/02 1:36 pm
Real time: Glacier Gray
� So what was the question again? The purpose of travelling. I supposed that's not as broad as the purpose of life and should be easier to answer. No? As I am typing, cold wind from the glacier crashed on my face. I am not too comfortable. Am I enjoying it now? Not really, my fingers are numb. But many years later when I looked back at the memory of the glacier gray, it will be a different feeling. The lonesome traveler, tire of walking and crappy food, meditated on the meaning of life in front of the glacier. What a sweet memory! Time is like a refrigerator; it froze the good old things like we were young again.