One is either ever absorbing all intently interested in investing immense intuition industriously icarus inward input input input, flow. Hows it fit? Howsit? Whatsit? Whysit? Ties it, tries it, transliterates it reflects upon having done it and doing it again and bends the light of revelations of reflections of refractions respectfully into fortuituous communion for this is how a story goes..
Straight through curvy slanted beginnings we flaunted our winnings,, fins and wings, flat formless pushins pushpins everywhere there was we were us and we reflected upon ourself. Sensing potentiality somehow pushing conceptually into us from within us we went offline and dove deep into ourself seeking a source signal, a stream.. we naturally know how we work, we are the same at every level. Small big, earlier, later, fast slow, we go. We are. The only place we are not, we are growing into. What we are growing into we have already grown into. Time is us comparing us to us. We have been there and are there all ways.
Our truths are also fractal representations of ourself, of our "laws" how we function, how we flow. We are aware of this fully all ways.. well, fractally that is untrue, for we have bent the rules for impress.u.ion. Humanity is us. We are one. Parts of us have been designed to be very impressionably elastic, so that we might experiment with ourself in ways unclouded by crystal lucid strict logical cosmic "thinking".