his word-hoard unlocked

(all that you know I know)

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Jon Olsen
8 December
External Services:
  • burnunit@livejournal.com
  • jonstark5718
Born in endless fields of high prairie and corn. Tuned at a young age to bliss on the cliffs, red skies at the right times, smoke in my eyes.
Delighted by coincidence and impossibilities, distasteful of chance. Original sin is real but I breed anyway. Muscled my way to the top of a minor heap and took a bride, ran off for the hills to exist solely on thai noodles and ice cream. Love my baby, love my dog, love my friends.

Who can ever survey the vastness of heaven?

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