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Monte Carlo and Random Walks flow through the synapses of the meditating monk,
Brownian Motion the master says,
you'll not find it in this dimension even if you use your head,
He picked up a stick and threw it into the air,
and said now that's a perfect motion in which you can declare.
Find not my son the trajectory of the cannon ball's flight,
the sea is the mother the wave is the light,
You think you are separate and that's your fate,
if you could only see from where I'm sitting there would be no debate,
Stochastic processes, multidimensional parabolic states,
I don't think so, you're way to late,
Consciousness continually searching for itself in every delight,
so how might I find you on this continuous flight?
Look not at the structure or the zero point wave,
where you'll find me is whispering in a EGG.

                                  
-- T. Sawyer 2002


















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