lancedb
Constructing something out of a plan and the fallen forest. Cutting out a sliver of warmth from cold chaos, undoing the seam with the other hand. All building is demolition. Remodeled and condemned.
The most extreme position is love. No empire ever rose nor fell whose swelling tide and partisan fury could match the rebelliousness of seeing siblings in everyone.
This passionate apathy, with which I render my enemy and friend in complete oblivion. Disregard is damnation.
No course true ever ran smooth, truth being a thing to come to in jumps and starts, a mountain that must be climbed over all the drunken missteps of what we must unknow.
I'm not my best, when I'm with you.
I'm not the least bit here in this cue,
Where goes my heart,
My self slinks at her,
My best in your pocket,
The worst hereafter
Days make centuries, decades fall. One moment in a millennia, crush the rushing suns.
It doesn't require contortion to slip into a spectacle. Mental acrobatics suffice to put an ideal on a high wire. Every word is cannon fodder and every master is a clown. Death won't be defied when there is an elephant in the room where the devil dares to tread.
Put on a new skin, dive back into the cradle, life going back to itself, surrounded in silence. The pulse in you, in your ears, in the earth. Dark, cold, but conjuring creation. Beneath the surface, teeming life, seeming life, breathing like floating down into forever. Heaven below as above.
The twist is the turning point. The unsettled air, the heat in the upper reaches, the cold coming in like a brute. The sudden slamming, the sudden shifting, we raise and we fall, we come from clouds and break the sky.
We are all chased by something, and it always catches us. We may not end up in its den, but we end up in its jaws.
load more entries