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[JANUARY 2025.]

Thank you emotion, I’m ready for the recollected in tranquility part now.

The sun’s chariot never gets too high these days. I think there’s not enough feed for the horses.

When melancholy comes down feather-light, not enough to tip the scale, that’s the sweet spot. A cat in a sunbeam, that’s all I am. The bliss of an empty hour. Watching motes vector in 3-space, squandering God’s gifts. Like some other things Dante had to come down hard on.

<= 2024.12

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