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Human in the LoopJonathan Harrell’s Commonplace Book

We are lost satellites,
Free from our white-collar shackles,
The suffocating warmth of our mothers’ milk.
Someday, we will burn in righteous fire,
Or drown in deep virtuous waters.

For now, we whirl. We turn.
We let the stinging cold kiss our skin,
The raging fire blister our perfection.
Tonight is a free night, a dancing night,
And worth every unspeakable transgression.

A blurred, dreamlike image of bare tree branches reaching toward the sky, with warm orange light reflecting off the trunks. In the center, a glowing light source, possibly the moon or a streetlamp, shines through the branches, creating a surreal and slightly abstract effect. The overall atmosphere feels ethereal and mysterious, with a blend of dark and warm tones against the twilight sky.