To the avail of the one who knocks the doors the mighty in their slumber, is the keen interest to determine one’s own self within such a tumbler. A tumbler as life one would speak to the heavens, for there is only one and one to only for that is key my brethren. Speak only for what is known or thought to be true, for else wise you may lose the difference between me and you, and you so beautiful among the stars knocking to the doors of heaven above. Sit quietly then, for I hold myself and know the weight of such crushing self-realisation, a weight borne only to allow the possibility of you, you out there to soar. Wherein the serpent slithers only along the path that you and I control. Step upon and garner focus to resolve only that we have set out to do. Weary is the traveller for whom has helped a little, and well spent is the adventurer who has left everything better than they found it.

Meditate.