..are put between us even when we are apart. They may lead to nowhere, apparently. They stand mute as we crawl the insurgence of dreams. They release dreams that are broken - one eye in each corner.
We are afraid of what we build, though the raw materials are composed by our senses and intertwined moves.
I'm only me because you are. You, anywhere, over there.

I like to think that this harmony lives but Nature doesn't care. It's only "worried" about the emergence of a natural mixing of preconceived rules and automatisms. So, Nature is this robotic organization of life, where I see life as all the things that are related to me, meaning everything in this paralel of though.

Harmony is therefore a mixing of unsettling facts that occur on Nature's automatic display, in a way that one personal identity and organization captures it as fluid.

Harmony if fluidity of oneself when peacefully sensitive to the connected dots of a mechanical and automatic Nature.
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