I was going through some of my papers and found some note/diary like things that I thought were half decent. Their both about reality, the first being the outside reality for us all and the second a moment of my inner reality. Well anyways let me know what you thing Concept Inside out spewing hole of conciousness obeying its wholelessness. Multidimensional noise of chaos dynamics. No up no down, only spirals of sporatic order. From nothing to something lonley to something connected all lost in noise, Dancing. Actor after actor, spiral after spiral, drama after drama, "Where is Shakespear?" "He's dead." "And Motzart?" "Dead". No conductor, no Jesus, no Buddha. Only emergant figures doomed to dissolve and assimulate into another structure of a dream. Every point is the center. SOC of the lost mE Who, what, where, why, how am I. I guess thats enough. But guessing has nothing to do with feelings. If you are lost a guess wont help, what will? A ground, some gravity, that force which you struggle so hard to lose is now what you miss. Is it a lesson? is that comfort? certainly I dont feel its pull. I must, musent, be a fool. The hope of Summers attraction, the fear of a faris wheel. Ok is okay, lost still. Its all so clear but missing, not wanting not hungering nor desiring, just travleing, lost. Is there a sun or is it dark, does it matter all I want is a spark. Will I forget to care for it again? Is it a lesson, will you let it be, does it matter, it must. _____, clack, but no click.
