Planted onto these solid fleshy shoulders, you may think the part of me with eyes, ears and mouth is my head.
It is a remote island continent consisting of none but white sand, surrounded by the deeps.
Each grain on my stretch of remote island paradise, a neuron holding memories, known and presently unfound knowledge of self and the universe, emotions I visit and emotions I shun due to the wisdom of emotional alchemy, I hold all realms of the universe inside me.
Naked, I comb the beach with none but my eyes to search.
I seek very specified grains of sand, for I have been given the recipe for greatness.
I walk my lone beach, bending down at each grain, questioning it's purpose, concentration in the eyes of my soul.
Each one that...