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Necropolis Gully

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  Necropolis Gully Ancient Fertility  The only sound in the deep quiet of the crevice was the crunch of my boots on the debris-strewn ground. Towering stone walls, draped in vibrant green moss , rose on either side, making me feel like an intruder in a forgotten tomb . My matte-black suit , a product of a future this place could never have imagined, felt profane against the ancient rock . Then I saw it: a weathered, silent figure standing in the path. It was a statue of a woman , carved from the same stone as the gully but shaped with clear intent. Moss crept up its base and clung to its form like a second skin. This impossible artifact, an architectural anomaly in this raw, natural fissure , stopped me. My steady, determined posture belied the storm of questions raging in my mind. The statue stared forward with blank, unseeing eyes, a silent witness to a history I had just stumbled into. My mission was to find my crew, but this place, this silent, stone woman , was a new, un...

Godin Waiting

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Godin Waiting  I have been in-waiting to go, for far too long. Wanting to change, to improve, to transform.  Now I am stuck in this place of best practices.  All the pre-planning, all the strategy, the tactics, and motivation is fading away. Step one, two, and three are now at mercy to this real-world placement. This waiting room, a monstrous social construct contained through collective intuition. All who have experienced disregard, within chant of 'be patient', have found their way into this room.  The fight to climb and to gain authority eventually leads to waiting.  The eventuality - all worn out by the fight within itself. Only to become the shell of what could have been and was now has ever-been.  Increments and trinkets of discarded shells underscored by the need to profit.  Shedding the skins of splendor and replaced by titles and agents of authority. I am within the placement of a utilized progression cue. ...