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July 19, 2015
Climb to home thru the unseemly matrix derivatives, be swept in the vortex combining here to there and everywhere situated toward the cusp, that indeterminate point, the ever preset hub connecting if, the what, and why for evermore or nowhere or here or there or the other where behind the blinded eyes, where the soul tunnels in vain for the heart of gold rumored as the rigorous definition of self. That all be found is nothing to the finding, where the journey is all and the finding is but a comma, an eddy, a breach of the flow to everywhere.