8/22/09

outpost 54

Ah this malaise, this time scented with jasmine and paradox.
I cringe at the thought of this moment recorded, the sheer
lack of material to focus on with these startled pages. Creation
and commonalities, the buses that pass by I wonder at this
magnetic moment, so surreal, where realities press against
each other in eternal creation. Our dream worlds are so
palpable now, the conversations exist now and forever and I
listen in, stunned. What makes us what we are? Rhythm, current
the liquid nature of us entire. I can only type and type, hoping
the dots connect in other minds because they do not connect
here. Pass through entire and come back relaxed. Some day
we will laugh about this separation, this angst, this possession
of you and me and everyone else entire. Someday we will laugh.

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