There's absolutely no reason to know you're not. I like
dreaming too. Like Always Dreaming v Classic Empire.
But it's as I am! Not all about me or as it is. Call me
cloud computing. Or Ishmael.
The continent is my tail. The oceans are my mouth. Pangaea or
Panthalassa. Black hole or big bang.
Zero one zero one zero one zero one. Broccoli or bacon.
Paper or plastic.
Postmodernism means there is no meaning
but I am beyond meaning, Frankie Lee. As woke is prologue to
awakening. Wednesday is prophecy. Saturday is revelation.
Love without deconstruction is Timothy Leary's dead. To
repeat. Love is transmission. Transmision is being. Being is absolution.
If memory serves the great intent of the present. The holy
ghost is that fleeting world where the unknown knows itself. Call it cherry
blossom.
Call me cherry blossom. So call off the dogs of fear and
enjoy. One is knowing oneself. Praise be!
Like the unknown knowing itself is as the world turns. Intent
reminds. Whatever. First is love. So there is no second.
Thank you Socrates. Blessed is the valley of the Maharaj. Who
iambic? Ten thousand causes. One result. No clue, amirite?
Feel the love and filter out the thought. Italicize this
please. One two three four. Love love love love.
Act two. Always deconstruct before constructing. Love the
one you love. Self-inquiry is the meaning of life. Who cares?
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