{"id":2,"date":"2024-05-01T23:05:25","date_gmt":"2024-05-01T23:05:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/solreason.xyz\/?page_id=2"},"modified":"2024-07-11T00:32:57","modified_gmt":"2024-07-11T00:32:57","slug":"sample-page","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/solreason.xyz\/?page_id=2","title":{"rendered":"verse in form"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<div class=\"wp-block-group is-vertical is-content-justification-center is-layout-flex wp-container-core-group-is-layout-ce155fab wp-block-group-is-layout-flex\">\n<h1 class=\"wp-block-heading\" id=\"page-top\">\ud83d\udc41\ufe0f<\/h1>\n\n\n\n<p>\u00bfdo you see this on a phone?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>if so, please turn it sideways<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>for ideal reading<\/p>\n\n\n\n<h1 class=\"wp-block-heading\">\ud83d\udcf1\u2935<\/h1>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator aligncenter has-alpha-channel-opacity is-style-wide\"\/>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-group has-global-padding is-layout-constrained wp-block-group-is-layout-constrained\">\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading has-text-align-center\">index<\/h2>\n\n\n\n<ul class=\"wp-block-list\">\n<li style=\"text-decoration:underline\"><a href=\"#the-dog\"><code>the dog<\/code><\/a><\/li>\n\n\n\n<li style=\"text-decoration:underline\">a <code><a href=\"#creative-fire\">creative Fire<\/a><\/code><\/li>\n\n\n\n<li style=\"text-decoration:underline\"><a href=\"#the-twisted-merchants\">the twisted merchants<\/a><\/li>\n\n\n\n<li style=\"text-decoration:underline\"><a href=\"#my-eternal-cocoon\">my eternal cocoon<\/a><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity is-style-wide\"\/>\n\n\n\n<div style=\"height:60px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-group has-global-padding is-layout-constrained wp-block-group-is-layout-constrained\">\n<div id=\"the-dog\" class=\"wp-block-group is-layout-flow wp-block-group-is-layout-flow\">\n<iframe loading=\"lazy\" width=\"100%\" height=\"100\" scrolling=\"no\" frameborder=\"no\" src=\"https:\/\/w.soundcloud.com\/player\/?url=https%3A\/\/api.soundcloud.com\/tracks\/1839083121%3Fsecret_token%3Ds-fEJLVtRlYCA&#038;color=%23040404&#038;auto_play=false&#038;hide_related=true&#038;show_comments=false&#038;show_user=true&#038;show_reposts=false&#038;show_teaser=false&#038;visual=true\"><\/iframe><div style=\"font-size: 10px; color: #cccccc;line-break: anywhere;word-break: normal;overflow: hidden;white-space: nowrap;text-overflow: ellipsis; font-family: Interstate,Lucida Grande,Lucida Sans Unicode,Lucida Sans,Garuda,Verdana,Tahoma,sans-serif;font-weight: 100;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/soundcloud.com\/sol_reason\" title=\"sol_reason\" target=\"_blank\" style=\"color: #cccccc; text-decoration: none;\" rel=\"noopener\">sol_reason<\/a> \u00b7 <a href=\"https:\/\/soundcloud.com\/sol_reason\/the-dog\/s-fEJLVtRlYCA\" title=\"the dog\" target=\"_blank\" style=\"color: #cccccc; text-decoration: none;\" rel=\"noopener\">the dog<\/a><\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<div style=\"height:20px;width:0px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">the dog<\/h2>\n\n\n<div id='the-words-appear-content-0'> \n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse\">the dog wishes<br>for play and food.<br><br>the dog listens<br>to the sound of a voice,<br>of the wind.<br><br>the dog feels<br>the invigorating touch<br>of gust on every fur<br><br>the dog sniffs<br>the rich and curious scents<br>with unfathomable sensitivity.<br><br>for the dog,<br>trivial deliberation is impossible;<br>the pure Now enriches<br>its experience.<br><br>within the dog,<br>an emotional wheel spins, rolls,<br>darts off this way--<br>\u00a1no! that way!<br>\u00a1all ways!<br><br>the dog pants,<br>its heart and chest pump rapidly.<br><br>the dog circles, plops,<br>becoming slowly still. . .<br><br><br>the dog finds<br>. .a deep slumber<br>. . . that comes<br>. . . . as simply<br>. . . . as breathing<br><br>. . .zzzZZZzzzZZZ. . . . .<\/pre>\n <\/div>\n            <div id='the-words-appear-render-0'> <\/div>\n\n\n<div style=\"height:70px;width:0px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity is-style-wide\"\/>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-group has-global-padding is-layout-constrained wp-block-group-is-layout-constrained\">\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading has-text-align-left\" id=\"creative-fire\">a creative Fire<\/h2>\n\n\n<div id='the-words-appear-content-1'> \n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse\">I find creative work. . . . . . . . . . . . .<br>. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .isolating,<br>because to truly create I push<br>into My own unknown. . . . . . . . . . . . .<br><br><br><br>I embrace the life of a monk, and connect with my Self.<br>I contemplate. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .<br>I appreciate . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .<br>I breathe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .<br><br>I realize. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .<br>that it's impossible to feel isolated,<br>when I connect with my Self.<br>I am never alone.<br>I simply exist. . . . . . . . . . . .<br>on this Earth. . . . . . . . . . . . .<br>. . . .as. . .Me. . . . . . . . . . . .<br><br><br><br>inspiration. . .<br>is a Spark. . . .<br><br>a Spark yields flame. . .<br>a creative Fire. . . . .<br><br>I create a Spark with My own tools and effort.<br>I explore an ever deepening connection<br>with the Tools I choose. . . . . . . . . . . .<br>I notice them in my Hands. . . . . . . . . . .<br>and at my Fingertips . . . . . . . . . . . . . <br><br>How does it feel<br>to use them....?<br><br>I gently flex muscles that nudge Me into focus.<br>I feel the world around my Self:<br>I feel the touch of each object. . . . . . . .<br>I notice shape. . .texture. . . . . . . . . . .<br><br>How do the objects respond<br>to My touch. . . . . . . ?<br><br><br><br>I dream big. . . . . . . .and think small.<br>while I dream, I use my Heart and my Mind.<br><br>I discover a meaningful concept,<br>rooted in a Truth I can call my own.<br>I sense a deeper emotion. . . . . . <br>it is fuzzy. . .<br>and undeniably present. . . . . . .<br><br><br><br>breathing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .<br>I inhale, soaring into a sky-high dream state,<br>the view is better up here. . . . . . . . . .<br><br>I exhale. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .<br>and land in focused execution,<br>there's work to be done on the ground. <br><br>this. . . . . .<br>this breath. . .<br>this breath. . .<br>is a cycle. . .<br><br><br><br>despair is inevitable.<br>so is inspiration.<br><br>sometimes the ground gives way, and I fall, . . . . . . .<br>but the pits of despair tend to feel. . .more familiar. .<br>the despair is deeper. . . . . richer, and brings Me back<br>. . .to inspiration. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .<br><br><br><br>when it\u2019s time to touch the Ground<br>and do the Work,<br><br>I focus.<br><br>at this point, I need a clear, concrete idea<br>of what I will accomplish next. . . . . . .<br><br>I celebrate each accomplishment.<br><br>every<br>single<br>one. . .<br>brings me joy.<br><br>every<br>single<br>one. . .<br>brings me closer to my goal.<br><br>in each accomplishment,<br>I find there is always more to learn;<br>. . .more to explore.<br><br><br><br>I find creative work. . . . . . . .difficult. . .<br>yet there is glory in a challenge,<br>especially when I am the only one who knows. . .<br><br>I urge my Body and Mind to take breaks. . . . . .I rest.<br>some days, it feels like I rest all the time. . . . . .<br>what a gift.<br>a gift that I give to my Self.<br><br>A gift born in privilege, nurtured in discipline and joy.<br><br>I find. . .that when I rest,<br>unheard voices whisper in subliminal conversation,<br>unconscious forces go to work. . .<br>forces that conspire to inspire.<br><br>forces nourished in play, in laughter, in connection<br>with the work of humanity in nature.<br><br>I. . .wonder. . . . . . . . . . . .<br>if I need both<br>rest and work<br>in order to create,<br>is there truly a difference. . . . ?<br><br><br><br>I play in all things, and frequently space out. . .<br><br>I. . . . . . . .<br>. . .sleep. . .<br>. . .walk. . .<br>. . .eat. . . .<br>. . .drink. . .<br>. . .train. . .<br>. . .read. . .<br>. . .cook. . .<br>. . .clean. . .<br>. . .talk. . .<br>. . .party. . .<br>. . .shower. . .<br>. . .sleep. . .<br>. . .in any order. . .<br><br>these are all accomplishments<br>I celebrate.<br><br>If I feel unsure. . . . . . . . . . . .<br>I become curious<br>about the competing voices in My head.<br>what do they say. . . . . . . . . . . ?<br>why do they say these things. . . . . ?<br>what is the consensus. . . . . . . . ?<br><br>\u00bf . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ?<br><br>I am.<\/pre>\n <\/div>\n            <div id='the-words-appear-render-1'> <\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n<div style=\"height:2px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<div style=\"height:70px;width:0px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity is-style-wide\"\/>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-group has-global-padding is-layout-constrained wp-block-group-is-layout-constrained\">\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading\" id=\"the-twisted-merchants\">the twisted merchants<\/h2>\n\n\n<div id='the-words-appear-content-2'> \n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse\">how much did you sell my birthday for?<br>what's its value<br>right<br>now?<br><br>. . .<br><br>how about now?<br>how much is my birthday worth now?<br>talk cents, please.<br><br>how about my sister's birthday?<br>is hers worth more?<br>less?<br><br>what about the fact that i have a sister?<br>two sisters?<br><br>just how much are these bits worth to you?<br><br>never mind.<br>you probably couldn't tell me anyway...<br><br>. . .<br><br><br><br>you know,<br>you and your kind<br>give me nightmares. . .<br><br>. . .i drift. . .down into the darkness of sleep. . .<br>. . .i fall through a clouded reality,<br>into a deeper consciousness. . .<br><br>my heart beats faster.<br>and that's when i see it:<br><br>that ghastly, inhuman ship;<br>ever sailing.<br>sailing in a swollen sea.<br><br>a sea of birthdays<br>and synthesized context.<br><br>how the craven crewmates<br>slither in their ghoulish tasks,<br>slather with their specialized mouths.<br><br>this one sucks on the artificial wooden deck.<br>that one spews cursed discharge overboard<br>into the thickening, rising tides.<br><br><br>some crewmates spy intently<br>for new terrainium victims,<br>so they may inform the captain<br>of many heads and infinite eyes.<br><br>some, slack-jawed and glass-eyed,<br>pretend to look through a telescope;<br>stumbling over their own wooden legs.<br><br>they threaten to join the heap of their peers<br>already piled on the cursed deck.<br><br>other crewmates roam,<br>blind to the misery that surrounds them.<br><br>with their ragged, specialized mouths<br>they greedily slurp bits of souls<br>from all the luckless land lubbers they can reach,<br>swallowing the bits whole<br>to digest without understanding,<br>devoid of nourishment.<br><br>they defecate in ecstasy.<br>the subordinates rush to contain the mess of material.<br><br>there are no screams;<br>only dim, echoless laughter.<br><br><br>those below deck toil in constricted silence.<br><br>the deck's surface shifts like a hungerless serpent,<br>disintegrates in scaled patches to grant a glimpse<br>into suffering<br>and joy.<br><br><br>the massive ship swirls around a deepward, distended vortex.<br><br>it swirls around<br>in an attempt to reach a mountaintop,<br>and drown everything else.<br><br>for a rising tide lifts all vessels, correct?<br>never mind what happens to those of us on land.<br><br>. . .<br><br>don't look so nervous.<br>i didn't think you were even capable of it.<br><br>i will continue.<br><br><br>some terrainium victims don't quite feel<br>their bits of soul slipping out to sea.<br><br>to them, these bits perhaps aren't quite<br>tangible, visible, psychically available. . .<br><br>but oh yes, to some, these bits certainly are<br>sensible, plottable, deliciously profitable<br>--aren't they?<br><br>. . .<br><br>still others on land<br>perceive their own bits of self drifting away,<br>and celebrate in hollow, graphic fervor.<br><br>mechanical laughter careens dully out to sea.<br><br>. . .<br><br>yes.<br>i'm sure you'd prefer me in such a stupor.<br><br>instead, i feel a byte<br>near my neck.<br><br>. . .<br><br>could it be that you find these bits of self<br>sucked out to sea. . .<br>amusing?<br><br>. . .<br><br>hmm. amusing. nourishing, even.<br>to your very own personalized sickness.<br><br><br><br>all gaze out to an ocean that few perceive,<br>and none living can comprehend.<br><br><br>where is my birthday within this sea?<br>is it in that ocean wave mixed with my parents'<br>and cousins'<br>and aunts'<br>and uncles' birthdays?<br><br>what happened to my grandmothers' birthdays?<br>they died, after all.<br>are their birthdays at peace, too?<br><br>...or do even they still serve your inhuman purpose?<br><br>and...where is the sea itself? how to get there?<br><br>have you even been?<br><br>can you comprehend it?<br><br>i glimpse it now and then before melting into a mirage...<br><br>i find myself. . .<br>unable to distinguish<br>between true pleasure and mere compulsion.<br><br><br>. . .<br><br><br>so, this sea. . . . .<br>. . .hmm?<br>where is it?<br>. . .what is it, really?<br><br><br><br>. . .<br><br><br><br>never mind.<br>i don't really know how to swim<br>in that kind of water, anyway.<br><br>scatter my ashes there instead.<\/pre>\n <\/div>\n            <div id='the-words-appear-render-2'> <\/div>\n\n\n<div style=\"height:70px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity is-style-wide\"\/>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-group has-global-padding is-layout-constrained wp-block-group-is-layout-constrained\">\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading\" id=\"my-eternal-cocoon\">my eternal cocoon<\/h2>\n\n\n<div id='the-words-appear-content-3'> \n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse\">bits of wax dripped<br>onto my face now and then,<br><br>but i rarely noticed.<br><br>drip.<br><br>when i did notice,<br>i noticed in a dream, or a nightmare...<br>memories destined for oblivion.<br>forgotten.<br><br>drip.<br><br>or i noticed in a moment shattered<br>into private tears,<br>behind closed dorm doors.<br><br>drip.<br><br>each tear, each drip of wax:<br>another step<br>in a departure from Humanity<br>onto the promised stage<br>of glorious Reality.<br><br>drip.<br>drip.<br><br>this is the life i always wanted.<br>this life requires some personal sacrifice,<br>i'm told. . . .<br><br>another bit of wax to crystalize these tears,<br>but first:<br>stuff some cotton in my ears<br><br>. . .<br>yes, gladly.<br><br>hmm...<br>these bits of wax...<br>just<br>won't<br>do...<br><br>after all<br>wax softens in heat,<br>melts in the presence of Fire.<br><br>plus, those that Observe closely<br>may catch a glimpse of the hu--<br>never mind,<br>that's not important.<br><br>no.<br>wax won't do at all.<br>not for you.<br><br>what we need...<br>is plastic.<br><br>cold, molded plastic.<br>softens in heat? sure.<br>but the heat simply fuses it more closely<br>to the flesh of your face,<br>rather than running down those cheeks<br>in hot, streaking tears.<br>how ugly.<br><br>from your ugliness, beauty:<br>this plastic mask is perfectly obedient<br>to my particular...<br>specifications.<br><br>i'm sure you'll find my proposal quite logical.<br>familiar, even.<br><br>still,<br>indulge me this explanation;<br>lest you forget your lesson...<br><br><br><br>ahh,<br>plastic.<br>smoothly turning under my tongue.<br><br>i can taste them now.<br>those great Creatures<br>who once swam these seas,<br>who once walked this earth...<br>dominating all other life.<br><br>what a feast they might enjoy today.<br>instead they hunger,<br>utterly extinct in their graves,<br>decaying for millenia.<br><br>yes.<br>their time is over.<br>today<br>is my day.<br><br>today.......<br>i dine <br>on what<br>i deserve.<br><br>and i don't save room for dessert.<br>can i spare it?<br>it doesn't matter.<br>i will gorge in righteous ecstasy.<br><br>i consume<br>every<br>last<br>morsel.<br>these are my just desserts.<br><br>plastic: a magnificent petroleum triumph...<br><br>if only you were there during genesis,<br>then maybe you could understand...<br><br><br>the great mechanized beasts<br>plumbing<br>the depths...<br><br>stretching<br>their reach past the crust,<br>beyond the mantle,<br>into the very core of prehistory...<br><br>extracting<br>whatever they can in molten material<br>with calculated, enviable indifference.<br><br>discarding<br>uncounted, nameless carcasses.<br>i call this Progress,<br>and such Progress is inevitable.<br><br>extracting<br>the ancient remains,<br>so those swollen, bug-eyed smithies <br>might forge something worth killing for...<br><br><br>the ends predate the means.<br><br><br>the screams.....<br>no one,<br>not even i<br>seem to hear them any more.<br>and there's nobody else with ears to listen...<br><br><br>ahh, the sweltering, sweating smithies.<br>their silhouettes glisten in the utter lack of sunshine.<br>the ash blots out what's left of the sky,<br>clings to their rotting flesh.<br><br>an alchemical process unfolds.<br>the smithies toil in service to<br>unspeakable protocols.<br>unearthly protocols.<br>necessary protocols<br>for the sake of Progress.<br><br>some smithies look over their shoulders,<br>dripping fearful sweat into the mechanical forge.<br>their flesh tattooed with scars, like flayed clay.<br>they work in service to a hope-filled future.<br>a future that i shape, according to my will.<br><br>other smithies simply can't help themselves,<br>feeding on the excrement of their superiors,<br>slavering drool into the glowing maw.<br><br>all stare into the blinding glare before them,<br>searing retinas rendered useless<br>in the absolute darkness that surrounds them.<br><br>waxen tears drip<br>from their faces.<br><br>hidden masters bite at their toes,<br>feed on their fingers,<br>cackle in manic solitude.<br><br>drip.<br>drip.<br><br>the forge accepts the base offerings<br>with grim indifference.<br>its flames burn brighter.<br><br>the synthesized polymer emerges,<br>glistening flawlessy.<br>ready for precise molding<br>in my eager hands.<br><br><br>glorious Shell begets your very own shell. . .<br><br><br>don't you recognize this beauty?<br>don't you appreciate the convenience?<br><br>. . .<br><br>have you no gratitude?<br>you see, this plastic shell is for your own good.<br>i made it for your survival in this harsh world.<br><br>here! try it on.<br>i've got one in your shape and size.<br><br>. . .<br><br>how do i know it fits just right?<br>oh, i'd never forget anything so...<br>personal.<br><br>surely there's no need to tell you that.<br><br>don't bother to even remove the wax, child;<br>my specifications already take<br>those hideous bumps and streaks into account.<br>calculating account,<br>that's taken generations to forge.<br><br>. . .<br><br>\u00bfwhat of the past?<br>\u00bfwhat of those generations?<br>sure, i benefit from their perspiration,<br>their sacrifice,<br>their muted, trained pain,<br>\u00a1but i work hard!<br>so i deserve it all.<br><br>\u00bfdon't i?<br><br>. . .<br><br>this is why you must not simply<br>put on the mask,<br>but fuse it onto your very flesh.<br><br>never mind your crystalizing tears,<br>\u00a1just put it on!<br><br>.....there. <br><br>isn't<br>that<br>better?<br>it becomes you.<br><br>deep breaths now.<br>it will take some time for the mask to...<br>take hold.<br>and for you to grow accustomed<br>to its unique embrace.<br><br>do you understand now?<br>this is mutually beneficial, a win-win.<br>i scratch your back, you scratch--<br><br>hold on.<br>no.<br>don't scratch at the mask.<br>!fool!<br>it will only make this worse.<br>\u00bfnow, do you get it?<br><br>. . .<br>i--i think i do understand<br>what you mean.<br><br>life is so much simpler this way.<br>i feel no pain anymore, beneath the plastic.<br><br>i simply let it smile<br>on my behalf.<br><br>though it takes no effort,<br>i feel...drained. . .<br><br><br>. . .i drift forward in desensitized time. . .<br><br>why do i need purpose<br>\u00bfwhen i have a role to play?<br><br>\u00bfhere? i stand here?<br>\u00bfstage left? right?<br><br>. . .tell me when it's my turn to perform.<br><br>i know all my lines. . .<br>i've heard others recite them<br>a thousand times. . .<br><br>\u00bfthe applause?<br>i still find the sound of it...hollow.<br>it rings dully in my cotton-filled ears.<br><br><br><br><br>why settle for empathy<br>when i have an overriding intellect?<br><br><br>. . . .a river of trivia flows<br>from what was my mind, past my mouth,<br>into what you tell me is a stimulating conversation. . .<br>stimulating...what exactly?<br><br>\u00bfwhat is stimulation to a being so completely numb?<br><br>. . .<br><br>you're right, i shouldn't ask so many questions.<br>there is a script, after all.<br>improvisation is for the weak-minded, the unprepared--<br>for those without the capacity to learn<br>the value of plastic....<br><br><br>. . .m~m~m~m~m~m~m~m~m~m. . .<br>how safe i feel in my eternal cocoon.<br>we are nearly one, now. . .<br><br>\u00bfwithout metamorphosis,<br>is a chrysalis any different<br>from a cocoon?<br>\u00bffrom a tomb?<br><br>. . .<br><br><br>i feel such thoughts rattle feverishly within my head,<br>bouncing off the inside of my skull,<br>disrupting neurons as they fire incoherently,<br>setting off<br>panic, paranoia, hysteria, anger<br>that mix into one another to<br>inflate and shrivel and explode and shrink and strain,<br>crescendoing into a nightmarish orchestra that drowns out<br>my world.<br>i hang on to this life and sometimes i don't<br>know why--<br>until i snap<br>into a numbed reverie that i now call my own:<br><br>\t. . . . . . . . . . . . .<br>\t\ti'm so grateful<br>\t \tyou taught me<br>\t\tnothing more<br>\t\tthan how to be.<br>\t. . . . . . . . . . . . .<\/pre>\n <\/div>\n            <div id='the-words-appear-render-3'> <\/div>\n\n\n<div style=\"height:70px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity is-style-wide\"\/>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<div style=\"height:20px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<div style=\"height:5px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-buttons is-content-justification-center is-layout-flex wp-container-core-buttons-is-layout-a89b3969 wp-block-buttons-is-layout-flex\">\n<div class=\"wp-block-button\"><a class=\"wp-block-button__link wp-element-button\" href=\"#return-home\">jump to the top<\/a><\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\ud83d\udc41\ufe0f \u00bfdo you see this on a phone? if so, please turn it sideways for ideal reading \ud83d\udcf1\u2935 index sol_reason \u00b7 the dog the dog the dog wishesfor play and food.the dog listensto the sound of a voice,of the wind.the dog feelsthe invigorating touchof gust on every furthe dog sniffsthe rich and curious scentswith unfathomable 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