I sometimes think of it as a code I am sending from this moment of the future of myself to many moments of the past of myself. A sort of message in a bottle reminding me where I hid the keys to the stars and how to reassure the one who lurks in the vast between. We talk to ourselves from positions in the future. A secret language of spirals and sparks played on the surface of storm-dark’d waters. A sort of message from positions of the future. Reminding me, where I hid. The stars.