continuity has its own justice, or lack of continuity has its own justice, or renewal of continuity has its own justice. mercy is the space between the rows of corn. jam is zarathustra speaking to fruit. mark twain cabbage grows in heads that walk along the mississippi river. in which history of my life does the cobweb sing? you were remembered today in my prayers, as i am trying to do everyday, with a high degree of success by the way. remembered in gratitude exactly as you are. no request to spirit to change you into someone or something else. you are the mother, i am the father, our children are blessed and nothing, nothing can take away that blessing. not you, not me, and i am still surprised when an attempt is made. how sad the days can be when all we see is someone else's shit. that is the definitive state of desperation. i am in gratitude every day to not be in that state.
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