The transitory luster of a divinatory thought-form transmutes in the vibratory rhythm of a cat’s purr. Sit in front of an open window, make a tiny sighing noise, and point your knowing in the direction of Venus as a morning star. The ocean floor would like to tell you that forever is now.
Think about these things today: the color of pink cotton candy, phantom quartz, music in the key of G, the dim light of a crescent moon, and the enduring integrity of yucca blooms.
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