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⬅️ Previous capture (2024-02-05)

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boulder

it's night. there are a couple of characters around the fire. they are resting after a session of flying along these hybrid creatures; beings that for a little bit did manage to exist. music, in a way, saved them.

previously, the smoke started by productivity (different than the fire they are at) almost achieved extinguishing all of them, myself included. "what's the point of imagining for the sake of itself", the smoke would acquire a mouth and say.

there has been some tuning (and turning) for the kind of stimuli that would make all of this to be alright. worlds created "just to play"? worlds that only exist in a few bodies-hearts-minds? what kind of "infusion" have this other heart-mind been drinking, that all of that sounds improbable, impossible, ridiculous; or, worst of all, "useless"?

"come here and play!", one of them calls me. there's ponche, and more stars than what i knew existed. "do you remember how all he wanted was to play?". we nod, the nose a little bit red - the surroundings are cold. "you wanted to follow! but now you carry this rock"

and what's up or down with that other being? i have been carrying it as a backpack that is full already without anything of value for me. at some point it made me carve a smiling face in it. so there we have been, me and the smiling backrock, travelling around and abroad. in a way it has felt right.

but, no more dancing, no more jumping, no more playing, because i'm taking care of the rock. how did it came into being? how did it end up with me? solidified smoke, growing and growing over the years? i thought it wasn't a burden. it seems now i can't unstrap it and let it go.

"it's okay", they both come to me. a warm touch.

"you already saw us flying". more warmth, now as salty liquid in my eyes. a deep wish to go along them, while feeling the weight saying "no".

"at least you now know it's there."

(the image becomes pixelated. we travel and play, and prepare for taking off)