You are here. You've been here before. Sure you have, I never forget a face. Why don't you come on in and sit a spell? I've got sweet tea chilled, best you'll ever have. Welcome, welcome, come inside and explore my mind. Since you obviously don't remember being here, I suppose I'd best fill you in on what "here" is, eh?
"Here" is the indistinct and rambling plain of my mind. This little gazebo we're sitting in now is sort of like an oasis, if you will. The land goes on interminably in any direction you choose. Myself, I try to avoid the west. The land dries up out that way and turns into desert; a nasty, burning, lifeless desert. The north is nice, though. The plain eventually thickens into a light forest, and there's always music up that way. Off in the east is pretty much the opposite of the west. The land rises into hills and mountains that are teeming with life. Sure, you'll run across something wild every now and again, but it's safe enough, and magical in its own way. That only leaves the south, as you might have figured, and there's a mess if ever I saw one. Not a bad mess, mind you, but a mess nonetheless. Ha ha, forgive my little joke. Down there everything turns into wetlands. Lakes, rivers, swamps, the works. You never know what to expect there; anything could turn up. It's usually an enjoyable trek, though.
Ah! Look off to the east! You can see a huge herd of buffalo heading this way! They roam the plain and keep the grass both trimmed and fertilized. They're gentle enough, though, and friendly too. The just ramble on. But look at me, just sitting here and rambling on myself, no better than the buffalo. I'm sure you're anxious to get moving, so get you on. Just remember; if you ever get tired, this little oasis is always near at hand-no matter where you go. A little bit of the magic of the land, see? I'm always here, and so is the tea, so do feel free to stop in any time. And remember: You've been here before.
