I’ve been meditating a lot recently—on the various elements of my personality, on memory, and the strange language of symbolism that rises when you get quiet enough to listen.
Some powerful realisations surfaced, and they formed themselves—almost inevitably—into this narrative.
It’s not a performance.
It’s not a product.
It’s a story I had to tell.
A marker I had to leave for myself, so I remember: I was here. I found the boy. I brought him home.
If it speaks to you, you’re welcome to heed The Marker.
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