I am part of the load Not rightly balanced I drop off in the grass, like the old Cave-sleepers, to browse wherever I fall. For hundreds of thousands of years I have been dust-grains floating and flying in the will of the air, often forgetting ever being in that state, but in sleep I migrate back. I spring loose from the four-branched, time -and-space cross, this waiting room. I walk into a huge pasture I nurse the milk of millennia Everyone does this in different ways. Knowing that conscious decisions and personal memory are much too small a place to live, every human being streams at night into the loving nowhere, or during the day, in some absorbing work.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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