Sunday, December 6, 2015

all in all a thin line of conversation where everything seems like a batallion of utterance and speech seems a cold war behind the veil that small circles need bigger ones and bigger fish eating smaller ones the cane that fell of sage's hand doesn't add up to the fact that this ash we will soon become will dwindle and diminish as we pass away in solitude and the grain of memory the same memory that enlivened our flux initiated us into the world of indifference and angered by the wave of smooth deliberation the phantom mash of the patterns weave into what we call ourselves smug operator of someone else's "life"