And we wake to find ourselves ‘welded’ to a pattern-finding and habit-forming machine.
A machine embedded in ‘time’; So naturally it turns into ‘process’.
This mechanism bestrides the dimensions; From one angle it seems like ‘body’ and yet from another viewpoint it presents as ‘mind’. But each facet is ‘solid’ in it’s own realm.
IT is tasked with ordering and processing and WE are it’s helmsmen.
The controls are mysterious and byzantine though. It cannot hear us over the din and clamour.
If it would only slow-down and quieten its ‘fires’ there might be a chance of hearing our voice.
And Orpheus tames the wild beasts with his lyre.
