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This reality will be gone the moment I write these words. Words allude towards reality. My thinking tends towards the way things are (ontology) rather than what things are (epistemology). My landscape of consciousness tends towards an aesthetic attitude towards every life. This feels more like an ontological orientation. This tendency is more pronounced in the morning, while dreams are still resonating through me. This morning notebook writing tends towards trying to find a voice, rather than writing about anecdotes or facts and knowledge (epistemology). I have a sense that I'm trying to trust my own thoughts and feelings, however strange or weird they may seem. I come to know something of myself in this way. This writing is like little journeys, I set off but have no destination, no map. This practise of writing every morning helps keep me sane. This writing is a way of tuning-in, I twiddle, wobble, wiggle, swerve, meander.

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