No information given. It must be taken, and enjoyed like fresh fruit dropped from the trees. Like fruit that sits in the sun it will rot if not savored quickly. Beware peddlers of this rotten fruit to the fools and drunkards, alas they remain in high spirit but their flavors are shallow and acidic.

Come pick fresh fruit with me and speak of the stars and the dancing games of the animals.

I'm really not sure what I should be summarising here so I guess that allegory works; but who cares anyways! It's just another money shot in the face of the akashik record.

So ♥♥♥♥ it call in sick, wear stripes with plaid, and go start the fifth french revolution. Or sit back and watch an ebb and flow of the temporal tendrils of probability stretching out across the multiverse, maybe you'll plant the seed for a new tree somewhere, maybe you'll prove yourself in the fields of battle, and maybe you'll find new lands in the horizon. Or maybe you'll just fade back into stardust.

Reality is the original Rorschach anyways.

And the Grape said unto me:
"Squeeze me hard, so my
juices run free. Then squeeze my brothers, for I alone will
not be enough to quench your mighty thirst. Let us ferment
and you may partake of the wine we will become."

I crushed the grape and his brothers, and let them sit. When I
drank them five years later with deep reverance, I was left
without even a buzz. So I bought a case of Boones and, Goddess
be praised, I became drunk. Mighty is she of the Golden Apple, and silly are those that talk to grapes.