Shyness is borne of Ego looking at Self and saying What an Idiot I am. Please don't remind me. I return to the present I return I stop everything and listen to my heart in the here, in the now, I kick though the skin and gasp like falling in cold water and surfacing again. Any awakening is the Self coming into itself, seeing what and where and who as it all is being, set and cemented temporally in the world. Bob and surface, blink the sheen away from lashes and blow out the watery snot. When writing of vagaries one must abandon the firmament. Jump, jump. It's not that cold.

Thanks for the vote of confidence and the recompense and the fair give and take do you detect a note of sarcasm, some crooked grin, mild wry facetiousness perhaps? Anonimity a hundred percent eludes the self but at least I'll seek some sense of suspension of disbelief. Shush. Do not presume too much to read, you don't know beyond the surface you can't see into the depths, I'll brazenly kick up the silty mud. Pollywogs and algae and mosquito larvae, no it's not all crystal clear.

If it's a span of time, what, exactly, is measured?