The Intern

I am dreaming in a land full of whispers. Essence and echos of loose-leaf clumps travel onward to the other realm, across the bleak sky in waves of motion. Movement is natural without force or direction. I am an entity living on its own, separated from the I of me, willing and wondering to serve and learn from even the most daunting masters of faith, for my separation from reality doesn’t excuse me from fulfilling my purpose.

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Absurd journalist and essayist from the outskirts of Shambhala. Email: ezijamesofdublinroad@gmail.com