Lost Year of Semantic Reason

Assume that life is selfish, a state of affairs to entertain the soul. Life, dreams, they are amusements to help pass the time.

Let’s begin with unfamiliar bells that ring; their chime in the distance spans across an open river. They can be heard from the banks downstream where the individual stands, a shadow in the white mist of dawn. Below their feet wiggle roots, tying themselves together in slithering knots. It is an unfamiliar song the bells are ringing. Without dissidence the bell’s ring in the distance has no significance. For all the benevolence with the unknown bells in the distance is lost in resonance. They reach their fingers across the river in chimes. They enter slowly through the ears and trickle their way to the center of the mind. They send out little vibrations that relax the body and rippling shivers down the spine like roots of an ancient tree anchoring fingertips to nerves. Their song grows eternally.

The figure does not move.