I dreamt I wrote a letter and read it

Fonted Times New Roman and sized twelve.

The Universe Inside

I was up before first light, first ensuring that the hallmark above my mind was secure, and it was. Deeply etched was the word, Faith, standing sentinal above my mind hole. Faith in myself and, if I stay three-treasures fit, complete faith in the Way. Realizing first as I concentrated on my diaphram, that one can absorb the sutras, like speed reading. Samadal, sutral, mindful concentration, feet first, then floating slowly upward through my bones, muscles, gelatanous pipes and cables. Anatomical identification scores the rising scan of my body. I realized that my sentience was the mudroom into the house of craving. I, too, understood that the wonder of my body coalesced, not into the hard and soft hardware and software within, but into point where there is singularity, like your God Almighty. The point at which I'm free to extrapolate the magic of my joint and several body outward into the dark holes of space, absorbing the sutras and dharma abstractly and curved light without reading a word. But, you can't cheat at this, so there's much to be done. I'm reminded that I still have time to do it, but barely enough.

Michael Brecker Quartet🔝🔝 Terrassa Jazz Festival 1999 Part 1

There's no chickenshit nonsense bullshit on my fone, goddammit!

Look deeper into this sentence and you will find that the message, frivoloous as it may be, evinces a dancing cadence when read, especialy aloud. Much like a sentence that I wrote embedded within a piece of prose, long forgotten, about the school cafeteria and lunch boxes, wherein I put, "Mom made for trading fruit for boiled eggs at table two."

Nandina ice