She makes sense in the context of her chosen company,

Her views become less obscure,
Understandable.

As if the vibrations of her wavelengths make sense.
When she is surrounded
By similar harmonies.

The depth of their collective perception becomes infinite.

Maybe it was down to their minds
being alive
And full of the smoke of God.

Or maybe,
It was their neuro-pathways,
Moulding and mapping the world around them.
They woke up to the politricks.

Their indigo glow could be just that of youth,
A Millennial whoop,
A tribal pixelated galaxy of potential,
Moulded to form the masses.

Just like a generation beforehand.

The mosaic of human awakening seems never ending.

But there must come a point of human realisation

A mutual realisation

Our little lives are insignificant to the monologue of the universe.