More portage
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vendored
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layout: post
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title: "The Key to Immortality"
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date: 2018-03-31
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---
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#### Perpetuation from a shattering?
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Photo by [Vincent Foret](https://unsplash.com/photos/3S_nePubrtw?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText) on [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com/search/photos/broken?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText)A broken heart never quite
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heals
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A broken heart never quite
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forgets
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A broken heart never quite
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lets go
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Lets go of the
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soul that broke it
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A heartbreaker lives on
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in the souls they dismantled
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And one that breaks a thousand hearts
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never dies
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Twist of fate?
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Just Life
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layout: post
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title: "Is a human mind in a robot body still…human?"
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date: 2016-09-14
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---
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The question posed in the title is a particular example of a wider question: What makes us human? Are we nothing but the sum of our parts, or is there something more to it?
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title = "Is a human mind in a robot body still…human?"
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date = 2016-09-14
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categories = ["philosophy"]
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[[resources]]
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src = "**androiddude*"
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The question posed in the title is a particular example of a wider question: What makes us human? Are we nothing but the sum of our parts, or is there something more to it?
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I believe that consciousness and self-awareness is what defines a ‘self’. Put another way, to be ‘you’ necessitates knowledge that you are ‘you’. Unlike some, I do not believe our physical bodies play any part in defining who or what we are.
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@@ -18,6 +20,6 @@ The presence of a soul could complicate the original question considerably, depe
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Certainly there is a part of me that likes to believe in a ‘spark’. Somewhat unscientific, but…pleasing.
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*Originally published on *[*Blogger*](http://ift.tt/2cy04BR)
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*Originally published on* [*Blogger*](http://ift.tt/2cy04BR)
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title = "*snkt*, *snkt*, *snkt*"
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date = 2018-06-12
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description = ""
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draft = true
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toc = false
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categories = ["fiction"]
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images = [
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"https://source.unsplash.com/collection/983219/1600x900",
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"/img/1*aPhII8tpOj9XsXXQNngPzw.jpeg"
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] # overrides site-wide open graph image
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#### Like metronomic and distorted cackling laughter
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The idea-spiders skitter. Piercing clatter of a thousand million worming thoughts. Each one keens in its own way, hungry for freedom. Each one glibly promising sprawling webs of crystalline creativity. Each one truthful to a volatile degree.
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layout: post
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title: "Forging a path into the web of unknown"
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date: 2018-01-12
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---
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Photo by [Benjamin Blättler](https://unsplash.com/photos/J40eheaQ_OE?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText) on [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com/search/photos/path-night?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText)I stand, hesitant
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title = "Forging a path into the web of unknown"
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date = 2018-01-12
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[[resources]]
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[resources.params.meta]
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I stand, hesitant
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Before me, the path splits
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@@ -54,4 +59,4 @@ Through
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There is no other
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layout: post
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title: "I don’t know how to write"
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date: 2018-01-13
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---
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Photo by [Alex Iby](https://unsplash.com/photos/aU1cBKa3mJU?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText) on [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com/search/photos/mask?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText)That I honestly don’t know is something I always kept close to my chest. But no more.
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title = "I don’t know how to write"
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date = 2018-01-13
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[[resources]]
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[resources.params.meta]
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license = "https://unsplash.com/license" # attribution not required
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That I honestly don’t know is something I always kept close to my chest. But no more.
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Because…I write. I write and write. I just *do* it. Only occasionally do I pause to search for the right word. Only some of my pieces are edited for more than a basic spelling and grammar check.
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@@ -16,13 +21,13 @@ If that sounds a lot like magic…that’s because it *feels* a lot like magic t
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I’d urge you not to envy me, though. Yes, the writing flows. Flows easily, most days. And in that I am massively blessed and freely admit that.
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*But, *I don’t know what makes me tick. I don’t know *how I flow. *Not the first clue. I know I have a wide vocabulary from reading voraciously. That makes sense. I don’t know, though, how that translates to sentences that string themselves together seemingly without my help.
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*But,* I don’t know what makes me tick. I don’t know *how I flow.* Not the first clue. I know I have a wide vocabulary from reading voraciously. That makes sense. I don’t know, though, how that translates to sentences that string themselves together seemingly without my help.
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That’s more than a little terrifying.
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Because what if…oh what *if*…the words disappear? What if I suddenly lose my flow? Without it, I’d be helpless. And I wouldn’t know how to get it back.
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I’d no longer be *a* writer. I’d no longer be *the* Frenetic Scribbler*.*
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I’d no longer be *a* writer. I’d no longer be *the* Frenetic Scribbler.
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Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. I hope they don’t. I need my words. Losing them would be like having my throat torn out. That makes me fearful.
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@@ -30,4 +35,4 @@ But for now, I write. And write. Fingers flying, brain dragged along for the rid
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Perhaps one day I’ll even understand how it happens.
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---
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layout: post
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title: "Frenetic Scribblings #34: Magic of the 4am silence"
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date: 2018-01-04
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---
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Photo by [Khachik Simonian](https://unsplash.com/photos/G22cAfM7-tE?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText) on [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com/?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText)4am is a magical time. Where the late-nighters have mostly drifted off to bed, and the early-risers haven’t well…risen.
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+++
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title = "Frenetic Scribblings #34: Magic of the 4am silence"
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date = 2018-01-04
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categories = ["thoughts"]
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[[resources]]
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src = "**nightstreet*"
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[resources.params.meta]
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creator = "Khachik Simonian"
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sameAs = "https://unsplash.com/photos/G22cAfM7-tE?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText" # also updates caption
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license = "https://unsplash.com/license" # attribution not required
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+++
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4am is a magical time. Where the late-nighters have mostly drifted off to bed, and the early-risers haven’t well…risen.
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It’s simultaneously eerie and relaxing in a most odd sort of way. Hearing birdcalls echo across a graveyard silence in a usually hectic city center is an…experience. The occasional twitters should feel out of place in the concrete jungle, normally masked by human noise as they are.
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@@ -12,7 +18,7 @@ They do not.
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Sitting there, watching the sky gradually lighten and listening to the calls is magical because you feel isolated. Despite being surrounded by thousands of people, you feel isolated because you are the near enough the only one awake and around.
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A city at 4am feels like a graveyard. Except that -unlike a graveyard — its inhabitants are only *temporarily* at rest.
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A city at 4am feels like a graveyard. Except that — unlike a graveyard — its inhabitants are only *temporarily* at rest.
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Passing through the airport close to my home earlier that night…well, morning, had a totally different feel. Even at the oddest hours, the place is together alive and dead. Alive because it is filled with people. And yet dead because those people are mostly waiting.
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@@ -27,4 +33,4 @@ I took a bus to the airport intending to walk home from there…and on arrival r
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They were long hours, but I almost don’t regret them just because of the 4am insight.
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> Thought for the day: The heavier the eyelids, the sincerer the words
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> Thought for the day: The heavier the eyelids, the sincerer the words
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content/post/2018/03/the-key-to-immortality/index.markdown
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title = "The Key to Immortality"
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date = 2018-03-31
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[[resources]]
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[resources.params.meta]
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sameAs = "https://unsplash.com/photos/3S_nePubrtw?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyTextt" # also updates caption
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license = "https://unsplash.com/license" # attribution not required
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+++
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#### Perpetuation from a shattering?
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||||
A broken heart never quite
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heals
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A broken heart never quite
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forgets
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||||
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||||
A broken heart never quite
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lets go
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Lets go of the
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||||
soul that broke it
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||||
|
||||
A heartbreaker lives on
|
||||
|
||||
in the souls they dismantled
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|
||||
And one that breaks a thousand hearts
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||||
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||||
never dies
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||||
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||||
Twist of fate?
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Just Life
|
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9
content/post/2018/06/snktsnktsnkt/index.md
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title = "*snkt*, *snkt*, *snkt*"
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date = 2018-06-12
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categories = ["fiction"]
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[[resources]]
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src = "**spiderweb*"
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name = "header thumbnail"
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+++
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Like metronomic and distorted cackling laughter the idea-spiders skitter. Piercing clatter of a thousand million worming thoughts. Each one keens in its own way, hungry for freedom. Each one glibly promising sprawling webs of crystalline creativity. Each one truthful to a volatile degree.
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---
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layout: post
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title: "Flickering like candle-flame in the wind"
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date: 2018-07-01
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---
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#### The edge of vision otherwise dark
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Photo by [Paul Bulai](https://unsplash.com/photos/XOQJa4OC8P0?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText) on [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com/search/photos/candle?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText)[I have a blind mind’s eye.](https://medium.com/frenetic-scribblings/minds-eye-blind-93509e102fe)
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+++
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title = "Flickering like candle-flame in the wind"
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date = 2018-07-01
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categories = ["fiction", "philosophy"]
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[[resources]]
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name = "header thumbnail"
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[resources.params.meta]
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creator = "Paul Bulai"
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sameAs = "https://unsplash.com/photos/XOQJa4OC8P0?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText" # also updates caption
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license = "https://unsplash.com/license" # attribution not required
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+++
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#### The edge of vision otherwise dark
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[I have a blind mind’s eye.](https://medium.com/frenetic-scribblings/minds-eye-blind-93509e102fe)
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> I don’t see mental images. It’s incredibly difficult to describe what I do see, but certainly not the vivid mental imagery that I’m told others experience.[1]I’ve also recently figured out I am a broadly visual learner. Which renders my memory next to useless. Since if I learn through imagery, and yet my image recall is short circuited…I can’t very well learn *anything* can I!
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@@ -31,7 +36,9 @@ A grain of sand in the wind of time. Lost.[4]
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All I can do is…
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> **[wring] every ounce of experience out of every damn moment that I breath.**That’s turning out to to be a pretty sweet way to live.[5]
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> **[wring] every ounce of experience out of every damn moment that I breath.**
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That’s turning out to to be a pretty sweet way to live.[5]
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[1] Self-quoting wasn’t…well..self-indulgent, was it? I feel uncomfortably like it was.
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@@ -47,4 +54,4 @@ All I can do is…
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[7] Yet
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---
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layout: post
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title: "A spark"
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||||
date: 2018-09-27
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---
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Photo by [Jarl Schmidt](https://unsplash.com/photos/WxEI0pKND_Q?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText) on [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com/search/photos/embers?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText)A spark
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+++
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title = "A spark"
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||||
date = 2018-09-27
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categories = ["fiction", "poetic"]
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[[resources]]
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[resources.params.meta]
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sameAs = "https://unsplash.com/photos/WxEI0pKND_Q?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText" # also updates caption
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license = "https://unsplash.com/license" # attribution not required
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+++
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A spark
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||||
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*a million volts*
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@@ -38,4 +44,4 @@ Discreetly white hot
|
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*a star core pouring lightness into the world*
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