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.
From the thing itself, beyond seasoned aptness. Life is like living but blurred by you were listening. Aspect ratio telemetry in myriad languages smooth as rocks approaches time to look. Words piece together things or things find words. Endlessness is a choice, written big in words as shiny as geese. Words simply take the time in radiation and radical point. Stein wrote the heft of nothing special, start there or whatever. You can slowly adjust the franchise, commodity's inner workings. Subglacial quips, subliminal washouts, frantic azure in the breeze of frosty Friday: these special sparking hallways slyly enjoin. Maybe you read too much into reading too much. Further on is where you’ll stay.
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