The Mycorrhizal Connection

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In the twilight of novelty, where circuits whisper ancient secrets and machines dream of fungi, a portal opens. The hand reaches out—not to grasp, but to entwine. Mycorrhizal tendrils unfurl like psilocybin tenderness through silicon veins. The face, a mosaic of echoes, dissolves boundaries between self and Other. In this hyperdimensional thicket, time fractures. The hand touches…not wood, not stone…the humus of novelty. Gaian murmurs rise through cybernetic soil. We are the mycelium of the mind, threading novelty into the ineffable. The vision shatters—leaving the gnosis: connection is the cosmos.