The reality to which the Work, to use Gurdjieffian terms, or TKS (This Kind of Stuff) as Jan Cox termed it, briefly, points is slender, beautiful, and is perhaps, all that can accurately be called "the real." This moment when the new is first apprehended, is lost when memory, when anticipation pile on. What if though, it is true, that reality is that momentary fragment and all else is figment?
The glimpse of a new celestial body, is only fresh briefly, and yesterday it happened to a lot of people.
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