My only submission today.

Got caught up enjoying the view, and overthinking the thing that over thinking is specifically forbidden from thinking about, yet alone over thinking about, in the course of a normal day at the center of time, on the bleeding edge, amidst a council of such standing; that this mere rabbitty shaped mayfly, has resorted to the standard defensive mechanism of humans throughout time…look to the ground, mumble, then defiantly deny over thinking about thinking about thinking thoughts, that always skitter off the edges of the outer edge of the boundary, and I can feel it like the barometric pressure rise just before a storm unleashes. I can feel it in the vibrations underneath my feet; where power courses along the leg lines and root lines and programming lines, that make up the inner bark to the layers and layers of human innovation.

Did somebody calculate that only a fraction of the earth is used up by the many communications lines, that are fading into the past; but launched a thousand times more ships than Helen of Troy, in a madcap scramble to bring technology to the entire planet…much like the relentless drive to bring faster internet speeds has resulted in the forever disfigurement of our night time sky…which is a crime; how else would we see the new constellation in the western sky. The horned head of Aries, staring impassively down, watching the mayfly type away at his toy, and vaguely wondering about these red heads and their gift for prophecy; whether they should have let them breed in the first place…

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