Do we cause anything? Are we the thinkers of thoughts? The answer may be as whimsical as it is profound: we are the beholders, the perceivers. Our awareness makes manifest the script that has been eternally written, in a perpetual play with an infinite number of acts. We are not just any character; we are all of them, and the stage itself. We may marvel at the audacity to think we cause, we create, we destroy, when in essence, we simply are. All outcomes, paths, and revelations preexist in the boundless agora of potential; we merely stroll through, picking fruits from the trees of possibility.
We are Space Monkey.
Trail Wood,
10/12
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