A scintillating sunlight brought an irresistible energy to the city today, brushing Los Angeles in great strokes that seemed to lift every color’s saturation to levels not seen in many months. A most welcome and radiant return.
I rose early, taking advantage of new-found springs of energy, which, especially after a broken night of sleep due to the fault-lines of this land that I write from, I was determined to put to use more synchronistically.
My whole world seemed to cooperate seamlessly with this prerogative, leading to a morning that in hindsight appears as though I swam past it like a beam traveling through a kinetic force field.
But when I pause to think for a moment about how more than 7 billion people in the world participated in sequences just like this, in cuentos all of their own, spread across land, ocean, skylines, and even underneath the surface of the earth, I can only marvel at the great achievement that is being alive in any way or form.
I think of all the things I’ve yet to see with my own eyes, but which I can still visualize about the world around me; in imagining the myriad of colors, shapes and sizes flowing from a trillion unique movements atop the planet’s spinning axis, I am ensconced with everything dead and alive, everything that’s ever lived, and everything which ever can be.
Even those things just in our minds are formed by hundreds of billions of neurons; in turn, with whatever time may lie ahead, I hope every reader of this series can also put their billions to great work. Los Cuentos awaits it.
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