It’s as though someone is chiseling at your chest. After the work, the strain, the arduous momentum to bring yourself to the present moment of your journey—of all things!—now this: You’re strapped down, inclined by force, and your eyelids are wrenched open in an undefined spaciousness. Someone, something, is chiseling at you. It’s strikes your rib cage, prying towards your heart. It’s searching for something more, and as it pounds, the sensation is everything but painful. In fact, what holds you down and stretches the eyelids is your own volition. That someone, that thing, digging into you at the cavity of your torso is of your own manifestation. You allow it. You create it. You smile with inexplicable delight. Come the Hammer & Pick Inspiration: we flourish with it. It is an imaginary force of mental
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