Life is a Crystal

The air in this breeze is tiny order bits of the harmonic series.

Crystalline and set in air and blows the tree's leaves.

At different speeds, they ring like bells.

Mycelia dreams are just as strange if not stranger than yours.

Wonderful happens all the time. You don't have to freak out; it's fucking ordinary.

Crazy things happen all the time. It doesn't go away if you don't appreciate it.

Pick up your head, pick up your head; you should pick up your head, pick up your head.

Wonderful happens all the time. If you don't see it, you might have a problem.

What if all this is just a crystal forming into some enormous theater and we're the grains of dust?