There is no vision or project that is going to make life better
Life is already better than we see
The more I want to see, the more I have to give up hope for the projects
What is in my head has been borrowed through imitation, often called education and conversation
There isn’t anything in it with a shelf life of weeks or years, much less life itself
It’s not even mine, I can’t improve it with self development
If something develops, it’s an accident that will be cleaned up by the tide
I am by turns happy, anxious and sad; it’s a massive falsehood to say I control any of it
There is an island which I want to call me, gently eroding with the waves
Something is afraid of it’s utter dissolution in the sea of everything
Already I know I’m not my feet, my legs, my mid-section, my head
Am I there in the middle of my torso where the heart never sleeps, maybe not even
There is a strange overwhelming power that courses through me
I am caring less, with every breath, about everything else than that
