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What a glorious morning, 'tis!

Nothing much, yet everything much. Mostly a comforting realization about the dreaminess of what life is but a, i.e. truly pure modeling, conceptuality, mind-stuff re-flecting itself to itself so convincingly to feel certain it's re-al (i.e. the model of the individual self therein includes its conviction of said re-ality).

Of course, the underlying un-model-able (see also: ineffable) remaining untouched by the shadows flickering upon its flicker of a cave wall.

If you will.

It can't be said because any sayer is merely part of the model endowed with a desire to say what can't be said.

And so on.

And so fifth....