25th
the expanding universe
it goes back beyond my memory. that time when things were close together. when the distance and cold did not pierce me. it was dark then, but a different darkness; warm and comforting. so i push through this fear as best i can. i know nothing, i believe nothing. i only know the others fool themselves to try to reclaim that early comfort. so i stand here, all of us in the cold, but only i shiver. as i watch them run about in shirtsleeves, my puzzlement takes different forms, sometimes contempt, sometimes consternation. there are others who know the cold, but we don’t talk now. there was once something like warmth, a respite anyway, something less cold. they grow up and down and away. so far away. i don’t like this, but i can survive it. i look back, there was no protection then. i have taken bits of things, paper, paste, knowledge, wisdom, and thatched myself with them. it is makeshift, but it will do for now. i must build a proper home soon. old bones cannot stand the cold.
this is what i do. always thinking. always escaping from thoughts. thoughts trying to get free, and then bring me along. to say; oh such a delicate operation. just the right edge, not too wide, not too narrow. it’s quite a trick. not to confuse, or over saturate. that fine edge we skate along, and we are free then, unbound. a most elegant trick, a supple confusion, filled with just a hint of something beyond our ken, but oh what a something!
