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07:09. Hotel. Coffee, water. Remembering, a presence that becomes present for a moment, becomes real, not a memory that is recalled (like school), more a feeling that forms from the mists of consciousness, a feeling that comes to life, a dream. We dream of future pasts, our dreams hold our future past present - that's probably what presence is. Our dreams a latent manifestation of ourselves that we never quite come to know. Our dreams ourselves, forming our moods, our feelings. This life of dreams that we lost in the fields of time and ancient presence (stones - now photographs), framed, enclosed, distanced, objectified. Our dreams, our other selves, keep us in touch with our feeling-thoughts, our unbeknown.

Nice, I've just been given another coffee. They probably think I need a boost, or distraction from concentrating on writing into this iPhone. A strange presence.

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