Whispering into my ear, the syllables rustle their plumes and settle beside each other; longer and shorter phrases parade back and forth encouraging and urging forward. Little glimpses, and sometimes huge fleeting panoramas, flicker just outside the main line of my attention.Throughout this spell, no one else intrudes for long: every move I make, every adjustment, retreat, surge onward, is profoundly individual, all my own, not lonely, just alone, a consciousness that must be aware of its unique reception amid a great, breathless moment of becoming.
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