When you look plankton in the eye, you see myriad and throng. You likely haven't looked at plankton much, as small as forgotten, but in the eager example, open up to. Drifting constitutes definitive plankton behaviour. If you knew Greek you would know this. Oceanic plankton can be plant or animal. If you can't fight the tide, you are plankton. It must feel familiar. What do the people of plankton have to say? Demos as a cause for identity. Floating amidst the flowing in a generalized way. Plankton towns are random gathered. Their association resides in cryptic freehold. The union bosses remain in the constraint of the current, über alles. Politics exists in stray algorithms and made up stuff, mainstays of civilized life. All politics is loco. When motility occurs in maturity, say, planktonhood ceases and you must discover direction. For a start, head for the light.
It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.
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