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December 13, 2020
Falling up to the lowest, you could throw yourself off your perch, be at ease with free fall, flying up to the bottom so to see the arch of reality. One follows this mobius path, in and out, flipping down and around, there, in the circumscription you feel the sense of it, the totality of reality; not so easy to pass from one to another. As if you could serve up reality on a platter, there it goes as you hand it off, upside down and there again and again, the mess of us. the scramble, going round and round.