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in subtle currents
If you thought about what I was telling you, you would
know that I was wrong. How can the wind be powerful, you
would argue, when the wind can not know its own strength?
But you would never think this. Any more than you would
think to go out at midnight to watch the roses dance by
themselves under windless moons. If you bothered to think about it at all, you would only
marvel at the subtlety of it all. At the massive weight of
what is known, yet remains unsaid. It's influence, you would
say, It's how the wind blows. Precisely, I would say.
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