Hic est nonnullus magis feces ex preteritus
When you're above the reality and the clouds, the very existence of the sky takes on a different meaning. You tread lightly over a snowy field of cauliflower. Underneath lie the ants busily prepping themselves for a chance in the clearing to display their work.
And then you notice the blue. So subtle; from newborn baby blue over which a light mist is blanketed, and you raise your eyes to a surprisingly ominous darkness.
Fly!
Fly very high and far, and through the atmosphere - so empty!
So empty.
Unleashing your Soul Burning brightly - as a sun's.
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