Matrixicle

And it was far, dearest Timothy, far away he thought, having ordered a bold café B______ (the bean having sprouted a delicious blend of aromatic autism, acute, sensitized to the aura). Within the free market does this oracle still permeate an undefinable layer, whose radiance gives brief moments of clarity to those with vision, with character? Is it hovering above, below, unable to be detected, secured? In a Pascal Grandmaison painting Jenkins once saw nothing until it glared back and demanded an interpretation he was ill equipped to intuit, although, in his ineptitude he remained aware of its binding vision and realized that it was this very same vision which curated its harmony, the paintings following him from one city to the next, as he travelled. Good for you Jenk, you've discovered an unaccessible matrixical motivation moving meticulous mornings and contemplative remembrances, can you convert this insight into an automobile or a sandwich? His imagination believed it could at some point, I believe, perhaps, with no scant degree of fastidious resignation, turn up in a laboratory. But he'd passed on that and was hesitant on the substitution of financial forthcomings for artistic gauze. So I'm told.