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This Hyperbolic Caffeination can have that effect, for some. I'm a little envious as for me it only produces Trepidatious Hamstrung Confusion.
But I digress.
Actually, there is no 'But'. I just digress. Frequently.
If a breakthrough would only stay broken through, in terms of discerning the structure of one's budget of time and attention and What It Is Good For.
I get the strong impression in an actual pub, we would tackle these conundrums like I'm told Russian citizens do- we sit with a bottle of vodka, two glasses, argue over Dostoyevsky and the other topics (apparently Dostoyevsky is required to be one of the topics, always), until the bottle is finished.
" I can't live with myself!" Then I realized this was two people, 'I' and 'myself '. What if one of them isn't real?
(Paraphrasing Eckhart Tolle)
Trapesoidal Hicktown Chromofusion sounds the name of a genre I resolutely refuse to even merely hypothetically elaborate.
But, oh, for the love of Eck! Genuine. Deliberate. Free.
And...
if I could put time in a bottle the first thing that I'd like to do
would be...... well, I guess it wouldn't matter given the end of time at least linguistically implies the end of suffering, and most certainly the end of temporal ordering mattering.
But it's Tuesday, it's early, work and wife and highway noises compete borderline gladiatorial for author attention.
<a work day *not* from heaven later>
Dismal atmospheria, but boss happy with me. Or really upped his disingenuity game.
You know....