We forget about the law of circles. It pervades through all of nature, and so too does it govern our minds. Thoughts spring forth like shooting buds and bend towards their tails. They compete with one another, vying for the same land of limited attention. Mostly accidental, though sometimes by cause and effect, their quality rarely rises and more than likely descends. The lake is replenished each night and during the day its water depletes. Nothing is more unlikely than for a man to stop his mind and save the lake of its daily fate. The law of circles ensures tomorrow is like today, repeating cycles with no greater sum remaining than yesterday. Thoughts, make-believe as they are, convince each man that they are his singular voice and so he is impelled by their every random whim. Seduction is their hallmark, hypnotic is their influence, as all men’s minds move by the motion of their monotonous song. Hardly a single moment passes when the space is not completely filled, the canvas completely coloured, with not a white space in sight. And so it is a law that a man’s fate run perpetually by the circles that rule his mind. These are the cyclic valleys that reign men, village, and empire alike.