Just awoke from dream of walking through the woods with my sister.
She told me I cited a quote when I told her: I don’t hate what hurt me; i hate myself for hurting.
A line I thought I made up about a month ago.
Seemed common enough because I read too much but the look in her eyes made me wanna hate myself for it.
We talked again about “simulation theory” and I snapped awake wondering for the first time:
If this is a simulation, of-what is being simulated exactly?
Honest question.
Updated a couple of hours later.
I box things up.
I find this odd card.
True.

What does it matter, my dear
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Hi racheladmas and thank you for your time. In the cosmic sense? I assume it matters not. To me, it was a mystical moment. An experience of magical realism. Some suggest there is value in noting such experiences. Without taking them too seriously, of course.
Also, it will make me smile on rereading in a month.
Cheers!
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Howl yes. You must have experience with snow?
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Anything. Everything. Experience.
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Hum, howl, smile.
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