My dear Katherine, the golden grains of sand in this hour glass have run their course, and Hrodpreht can no longer abide this aquarium, he has been my humble servant, my little showman. And so I ask you to hold on to his feeling and release him back into the gone wild hall of mirrors of this world drenched in the age of Aquarius.
Sand castles can and will be rebuilt and that’s our play on the tormented shore. As Carlos Castaneda quoted Don Juan, “Knowledge comes floating like specks of gold dust, the same dust that covers the wings of moths. So, for a warrior, knowledge is like taking a shower, or being rained on by specks of dark gold dust.”
And if I got some in your eye, then be glad, because you are not alone, those are my tears as well. And pour them out upon your paper and dance in the vesica piscis of a world unfurled.
All my love to you!
I’m keeping my Hrodpreht correspondence here as an example of effective writing, vision producing.
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