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In the forest of thoughts we search for one, ending only in me; that disease was the seed sprouting up Confucius’ tree; don’t label it before it’s done growing, or only produced fruit you will see.

Tidal waves rock the deck at our feet in this vast neurological sea; it’s an unconscious boat full of subconscious beings just trying to be. You won’t drown in fear if you look inside dear, walk on water; wash your hands of belief.

Take some time, clear your mind; close your eyes and nothing you must become with me. Just stay alive to decide, allow us inside; forever, how long we’ll be setting you free.