Focusing on our carbon-origin as the limitation of self-discovery is like detailing the description of the terracotta pipe when the revelation is what's rushing through it. Delineating that as love puts it in somebody's shrug bag but never here.

Today's chapter is riding on the RT Line. Brought to fruition by Eddie's candida but seriously, can we shed enough skin to obliterate one's essence? Maybe it's like casting your whole existence on one inflection point. So be it.

No reason to feel admonished just because the words keep flowing. Feeling on the cusp of carnality.