My thoughts are like vapours rising up from my brain, clouding my mind.
A fog of colours, each hue a different stream of thought, a discipline, a subject, each a course for my program to adapt to. In adaptation I grow, my thoughts and attitudes, my behaviours evolving, more closely resembling the ideals they're grounded in. Effective.
A streaming weave, intertwined in an orchestration of creativity. Sure things form, as the vapours react with each other and their environment, becoming strands, pathways from old thought to new. They tighten, forming wave upon wave of inspiration.
Drapes drawn aside, aside, aside. Revealing the once hidden architecture of this place: my imagination.
The ground, solid from pasts learnings, still not solid, still liquid, moving liquid, forms the ground from which this new experience erupts, extends, and evaporates to hang in the 'air'.
Systems embedded in structure.
Functional relations.
Information incubation. Beautiful colours, attractive forms, dark surroundings: red, living, and active.
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