Holy mother cow! I feel you, Collective, and this existential paranoia! I see you, lovers, poets and warriors, struggling in your divine dance. Wriggling through the claustrophobic birth canals of the ethers and invisible realms. Unable to appreciate the work that is so hidden to us, and yet it is done with precision. In our waking lives we may be so alone as we move from empty room to empty room, shell to shell, husk to husk. But in our dreams, which we cannot remember, we are crowded, busy, bustling, exchanging, instructing, passing the torch one by one, igniting candle by candle, with great delicacy and care, the darkened and forgotten worlds.
