Twelve floors below the surface, a crocodile with a party hat appeared as hope before a cast of characters living in a world of nonsense. This was the high priest, appearing in yet another wrapped form. What are the endless permutations of this world of nonsense? For I have lost my mind and am forced to surrender my sense making skills. It is what it is; with my finger on the fishing line detecting the sensations and texture of life from here and over there. There is something channeling through, and here we are again: closer and closer to the center of the fractal.
flow__capital
