It was difficult to tell whether my eyesight or the dream was becoming cloudy. I blinked hard and squeezed my eyelids shut before opening them again. “There must be holes everywhere,” I said finally, watching the sharply focused shapes continue to get fuzzy. “It’s like a sponge. Things becoming real must also be filled with uncertainty, spaces in between—dynamic because it’s ongoing and hazy because it’s forever incomplete.” p 173, TTT
Posted on: Sun, 03 Nov 2013 17:13:12 +0000
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