Dear Reader,

I am sorry for this prolonged interlude in uploads.

I have been holed up in my office, nostalgic for a child-like state of consciousness,

where the need to control every facet of life did not exist, because I had not yet been conditioned as such,

where the simple fun of play – the uncomplicated wistfulness of running with reckless abandon – was enough to levitate the heart;

where things could be accomplished with the might of a fleeting whim, the moment it entered the mind,

where there was yet things to be discovered, in an unknowable world.

Now, I know too much and doubt often clouds my mind.

What now, when I am so aware of the self, the exterior body – a world of surfaces?

How do I return to that child-like state?

The time of possibility, that escapes the gravity of our time,

that sees no war nor terror,

no trees collapsing – seeping – into dust,

nor existentialist reminders of the fragility of life.

Oh, to enter that space of consciousness again.

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