Does one neglect one’s habit of meditation in words whilst deeply meditating on one’s aimless thoughts?

How?

In thought, these esoteric sets of states of energy in motion, one exists as an imaginary temporary confluence, a locus of waveparticles crisscrossing, one of infinite patterns.

Does a plecostomus attack weak fish?

Questions are the only way this one shows to itself that it exists, if not independently then at least with the ability to shape the future from previous experience.

From questions, stories form.

From stories, tales grow taller.

From tales, legends renew themselves.

Leading to more questions…