1.8.2017 A fleeting thought, an upturned corner of the plane of existence, a tremor noticed on the edge of perception, a contraction I have been trying to be open enough to observe arising, finally revealed itself as my own resistance to reality, a reluctance to make things happen when things don't happen on their own, and a sadness when the light and music diminish, forced to live, for moments or days, outside of the dream.
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