Contemplative fieldnotes: Last night I dreamt I was atop Mt. Snowdon, the wind howling as I looked across. Singing a yogic song. Strange thing in dreams, if you turn towards the aesthetic quality of stillness amid chaos, the chaos collapses. Something about symbolism in there.
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Not really something you need to be qualified to see (I'm also not a Yogin, as far as I'm aware).
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twitter is rubbish for humour, especially wonky aspie attempts ha. Apologies. T'was an appeal to ignorance where qualification wasn't needed. Eurgh - give me one of those zen sticks so I can hit myself with it

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