"'When I was a girl,' she had once told a friend, 'I was terribly sure trees and flowers were the same as birds or people. That they thought things, and talked among themselves. And we could here them if we really tried. It was just a matter of emptying your head of all other sounds. Being very quiet and listening very hard. Sometimes I still believe that. But one can never get quiet enough.'"

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Getable, turned karma.
Declining invitations from planets of truth.
In my otherwise secret utopia, I imagine an income to dedicate to you.