Floating, our being seems solid, yet our hopes and aspirations seem loosely linked and riddled with intricacies through which filter experience and alternatives and suggestions and disguised opportunities and subtle imperfections and perfections overlooked.
I dream my dreams. My dreams superimpose themselves upon my experiential being and my being floats in the eternal blue and the infinite opportunity of experiential creation. I reach out, tentatively, cautiously, into a fluid universe, touching it only so far as my senses reach. It always stretches far beyond.
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