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November 30, 2020
How dreams splinter slowly into pebbles pulverized underfoot reaching up legs snaking into spines, climbing the rash muscular doubts we parade in our daily fears to feed our hopes, spring the mind off its edifice, pull its wings from the ancient hiding place to fly us up and up, and to the question, are we linear beings, or are we merely hard-wired into accepting linearity as our basic modus? Space is curved. A straight line does not exist in gravitational reality, so what are we? Can we fall off this assumption ladder? To what end? What a crazy scene!