And the most absurd of things. . . She pretends to broker bits of the Earth, as if she could receive money for trading the planet from stranger to stranger. And he pretends to know truth or beauty or some other such absurdity by putting colors on a canvas. And she pretends to fix the …
“What are you afraid of?” he asks her. She doesn’t know but will say something like spiders or social ostracism. And he relents. “Obscurity.” “But that’s what you’ll always return to,” says I. “Even after a hero’s journey.” “You’ll always return to nothing. And there is no such thing as legacy. Adulation, respect and immortal …
Would you trade nothing for everything? What is really yours? Say truth now. Past and future? Those were never yours. A chattering mind? That’s a maybe. A fear of being the wrong idea to others. Of not being anything, ever, forever. Of futility. That’s a known thing. Would you trade your chattering mind for acceptance …
Died last night. The day was gone. Little things done will come back a little bigger tomorrow. How to explain to J or L that the sparkle never wears off. The delight does not wane. It only intensifies, if anything. Perhaps because death nears. And not because of any “achievements” or any momentous passages. It …
World doing utter nonsense. Doublespeak. Gobbelty-gook. Mary Poppins-Tweedle-Dum-upsidedown-babble. Name anything people care about, and it will be useless drivel. What’s so important? What’s your flavor of bullshit today? What did you learn from your beloved sources? Who do you follow? Why isn’t your greatest influencer your self? You program your self. What do you want …
