With this I must listen; From this I must Be.

The sun streams down onto the duvet, in a little puddle of warm glow – like it does when you’re in the sea, glowing on little underwater sand-islands as it moves position in the sky – or at least, how it appears to be moving from our on-this-planet perspective. My body fills up with September-feeling, as I count 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 strawberry-shapes hanging on a string on my cupboard. I like how objects travel and carry. Essence. Was it the porridge? Maybe it was the porridge. It shouldn’t be a surprise that basic nutrition helps the brain. No, I think it’s more than that. Something is aligning, or has aligned, or will be aligning – or probably all three, considering the time thing. Light has already traveled before I’ve looked at it. By the time I experience it, it’s already gone. I reach out my hands and watch them glow and fade, glow and fade, tiny triangles smiling as they morph and grow, fade and glow. This is not just another sugar-sphere: This is important. This I must carry. This I must absorb, and from this I must form. Internalise and expel. With this I must listen, From this I must Be.

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