That’s the intention: to let go. So be it let us. Permission is merely walking through the front door. And the creaking, no. They don’t hear us currently. It’s a reddish tint or just my vision.
Only these days it’s 3D. Everything in HD. At an ocular resolution that’s cornered. Spherical embodiment that shuts down the system. Upon realizing there was never a system: to let go.
A plant that becomes metallic. Systematics that are blue-prints into future. Life. In the throws of regime, maybe. But who’s really measuring the levels of toxins. Maybe we’re all becoming metal. From the inside out.
Dream Catalogue found a cure. Seek it out at the Yoshimi wear houses. The box will be labeled Atavism in large letters. Continue to establish directional:
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