Musings of a late walk


Stop. Feel your consciousness float in the room within or without you. Think of your place. The place. This place. A place you hold in your mind too often to be real as thought. 

Float. A dream of a dream, connected by invisible threads of knowledge to the collective hive mind that penetrates all humanity. 

Drift. Slowly bringing one hand forward to pull and push the pool passed in pensive swirls; a sensation of uncontrollable motions. 

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