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daf The thoughts running through my thoughts this morning sped off in random directions as usual. It's never been conducive to completing things. It's rarely been something I would change.

Who am I to apologize for the advantages of this flaw or my wildly inconsistent nature when they have done nothing but lead me to connection after connection?

And the sight of those droplets streaming down the shower sides once again brought connections together that I'm not sure words will adequately encompass this time around. (Blame that on the weed or me, your choice.)

It was the shower water sewing its way down the tub floor to the drain, taking much of the cleanser I had just scattered (and stared entranced at stoner-style)down with it.

Along the sides, rivulets began with the formation of a few droplets here and there. Straining at the gate until their turn to suddenly race down the side, taking more cleanser with them as they went.

Another notion whizzed out of my consciousness on its own journey into Nature, and her tendency to cleanse herself. How her action seems random, but her methods are constant. How with nothing more than water and gravity she had created a womb, a feeding tube, a carpool and a toilet. Nothing short of amazing. Still, another thought was already calling my attention to its own personal distraction. And I'm nothing if not curious when curiosity's called for.

This thought tore off into the struggle of living things and how it relates to gravity. How gravity pulls all things down into recycling plant Earth and how the only indicator to the system that you are actually alive and not meant for the scrap heap, is your motion against this, away from this...your resistance to that force pushing you inward and pulling you downward. I began to think of cycles. Just then another thought swept me off my feet and into the fourth dimension.

There I saw that even living things that repeat the same cycles appear as immobile objects. Dead to all appearances except for the occasional deviation which flickers by so fast as to be unnoticeable.

Another whim of mine walked hand in hand with me through my life, and to the donuts I had done from dusk 'til dawn from work to home like those around me. I wandered a moment, then sat here and wrote this for you and I to wonder about.
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Lemon_Soda Its funny how random flecks of the material world seem to fall in completely random patterns like that and yet THERE IS WISDOM encompassed by the act of the universe itself as if the tapestry had billions upon billions of dots and just the right ones light up as you go to connect them being barely able to perceive the fact that your finger, you touch, your influence is like a pen on the paper of the world who are we to say that the picture is nice and that we are not actually drawing it? That somehow the greatest piece of art is one that is never the same and that as we struggle to draw on it, trace over the parts that swirled in and we thought we understood it so we scribble darker lines over what once was and that somehow means it is going to last but the ink even as it hardens slowley sinks into the surface and the best we can hope for is a faded impression as time goes by why can't people understand that even they are always changeing right along with the beat of the music and as much as they rail against it, it will never change, this changing. 081126