The American Mastodon apologizes if he is boring you with his cut-n-paste prose postings. Like breadcrumbs, he is leaving in his wake a trail of thoughts and writings, of observations and impressions. Are you willing to follow along this unknown path? No? That's probably wise. It's been noted, and duly noted. He'll try to keep all that stuff to a minumum.
This past weekend the AM was back in Indiana for a friend's wedding. Surely this served as no small part in the posting of his previous entry, Mint Fields. Those few paragraph were amalgamated snippets from a story the AM wrote a few odd months back, and he hopes you didn't notice the heavy Herzog reference to ruby glass. Indiana is a funny place, but a beautiful place. Unlike some friends he knows, he doesn't begrudge Indiana anything - in a way, it will always be his home. He's just not sure he can ever go back, or if he wishes to. When he thinks of Indiana, and of Warsaw, and of Wabash, and the farms and the ponds and the creeks that make up his Eden, he also thinks of empty, open cages, lying in a pet store, rusting.
Can you not see that the AM is a tortured, sensitive man? Can you not see that he thirsts for you love? Can you not see that he should be in an emo band, or employed as an overly-earnest high school English teacher? Give the AM some time. He'll get through all this just fine.