/ the days creeping by,, // read me slow,,,,,

All time being held out long enough is called an era, & this being mine where I’m awake & alive. ,,,,  )) ) ) as in fully breathing. )) & this time–  a thing attached to a self,,huh,, & with no tomorrow. At least, with no promised tomorrow,,,a haphazard CHAOTIC in being at all.

//All chaos can, I think, be considered a thing like order without trust, & that gives me hope. It proves it must show the irrational giving way to an understood. ///////I’m alive in the trouble of minds,,,,,,  (*)Searching for sermons of starborns from PAINTER creation like there’s no gap between ‘verse:       mortality; morality; rationality; insanity////////// (I’m saying, imagine the many many “personal bubbles” of spectrum possibility, & their colliding against each other being together, but separate. //Talk about coexisting!// & how they are swallowed up by our making sense of the world, so we do not see. Right & Wrong. Happy & Sad. Alive & Dead.)

When,

rock dust in space holds
just as much
place
in this elemental reality
at least
as me…

Who’s it really
an
insult for?

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