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I have been fixated on the very specific truth that existence is neither a straight line (too acutely apocalyptic to be correct), nor a circle (there is a semblance of reality here, but it is somehow flat). I have come to the conclusion that our days instead assume the humming of a beautiful spiral--we do indeed revisit and revisit again each place we have been before but each time we arrive there we feel the weight of what it means to be there more profoundly. We learn something new through each reconnection.


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