(no subject)
Apr. 29th, 2011 10:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
proximoceptionWe blow past what travels at the speed of time unerringly:
Mere everything.
I'm not one of those who lament that: grab a hunk of everything and pull yourself back, it's easy enough.
Everything's a ladder down and back.
And try to avoid it it pulls you back in by itself.
I have no understanding of nirvana past what all achieve a thousand times a day.
We land a while, but soon our legs circle one another like wrestlers, we sight a distance and blow away.
Nothing's our speed but each other.
And ourselves when we find ways to leave marks of our blowings that themselves blow.
Marks made from mere everything:
From the parts that blow after us some as we speed up past time.
Mere everything.
I'm not one of those who lament that: grab a hunk of everything and pull yourself back, it's easy enough.
Everything's a ladder down and back.
And try to avoid it it pulls you back in by itself.
I have no understanding of nirvana past what all achieve a thousand times a day.
We land a while, but soon our legs circle one another like wrestlers, we sight a distance and blow away.
Nothing's our speed but each other.
And ourselves when we find ways to leave marks of our blowings that themselves blow.
Marks made from mere everything:
From the parts that blow after us some as we speed up past time.
