I, 3.6
Once you start to notice the changing forms around you, the turning of the wheel brings you plenty of fresh water for your own use.
Leave behind the sing-song of those who say to live you must eat, and to eat you must work for your bread.
Leave behind those who shout for you to play their game of “give or leave the campground”.
Leave to the others your own reply, “I found my way to pastures yet to be soiled by the thought of grinding bones to make bread.”
Here it is manna from the heavens. It comes in many forms, and in many wondrous events.
Leave the page empty, as it shall write itself as soon as now.
