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This never-ending meandering search for truth and meaning. Dragging feet on dark highway looking for headlights. Silly mortal oogling whispers of a flame. Seek and ye shall find they say, but do you know that what you sought is the answer? When found – or presented – this hidden trinket, this eye-opening philosopher’s stone, may not hold anything worth knowing. How do any of us know truth when it is flung at us? Gut feeling? Spock logic? Fallacy the felony and I’m caught with that cartoonish burgle bag. Feelin Felix so I run, mad stomp the delicate ballet dance round heavenly Acme playground. What up Doc? Indeed indeed. Sins of the flesh bring me round bout midnight. Jazzy soul seeking that hidden meaning. The all-encompassing eye zooming large on pastoral scenes.