Getting There...

So, we rest in dialogue

Where neither of us speak

My mouth moves

Your mouth moves

A sound is made

But neither of us is real

But words aren't real

There is just one of us here, split in two

And breath just falls away

Falls away

Why can't I hear you?

Why can't you understand?

What do you feel when I stare blankly at your voice that tease me with meaning?

What can I say apart from nothing at all?

And you would put me through this

And I would rest in silence, if it were my way

I'd return into your womb

Where all that speaks is your pulsing heartbeat

That pulses through me too

Where I'd be safe from speech

Where I would be your leach

I'd be stretching out your skin

I'd be a selfish little unborn shithead

And I would wear you thin

Finally, I'd be bathing naked in the light

So, once again, I'd fail to understand

And I'll crawl back in again

We'll do this forever

Forever

While deities, philosophies, and talismans are important methods of spiritual worship, I have found over time that my main method of worship is that of infinite detail. That, no matter how far in you look, or out you stretch, there is equal amount of detail on all levels. Every single living being, human or ant or single celled organism, is at the very center.

I feel sadness when someone steps on a spider, because I know that spider was just as consciously aware of itself as I am.

This, to me, is the meaning of connection, to have empathy for even the most minute level of consciousness imaginable. I've began to see that even the tiniest detail has everything to do with the goings on on a higher level, and vise versa where that tiny detail only exist because something else is going on at a lower level to make it what it is.

Concepts like this fascinated me to no end and have allowed me some peace of mind in the franticness and infuriation that arises from me due to our culture. Don't get so caught up in it all. Take a moment to step back and laugh at yourself for taking things so seriously.

Now wearable

Found this mask at a pawn shop. Want to put a strap on it to make it wearable.

Huge photo dump #3

So, when the pillars fell, no one rebuilt them.

And when the walls cracked, no one sealed them.

And when the children were born, no one taught them.

So, the ruins remained ruined.

And vines seeped through the cracks.

And the children never learned the truth.

I miss Colorado.