Thrice

It’s time.

But I don’t want to.

Come.

Please, no.

Find the story that writes itself. Find the story where the writer is merely the tuned channel. Find it. Be it. Stop seeking and you’ll do.

Something is changing but this shouldn’t be too surprising because everything is changing…always, never not changing –but this never not changing becomes the static from which we can move, think, be, exist, live, lie, love, kill, watch tv, eat Cheetos…and (crying profusely) this isn’t just wordplay, it matters! Only now you understand that consciousness is nothingness! Only now you understand the time you’ve wasted! And yet the time still pours from the hourglass, still slips away like the blood from your body, and the more you realize the more valuable IT becomes. But it took so long to REALIZE, that you end. You denied DENIED and denied in the face of the evidence in the face of yourself in the face of the truth you knew you knew you knew. Are you tempted to deny, again? Are you tempted to live and not brood? Brooding was never the issue. Truth was the issue; the overriding issue. The heavy handed issue. The issue you had to hold in thought to deny, the issue causing the dissonance. Reverberating when little truths reflected the unmoved truth, larger truth, the truth of you for you in you never not you no matter how much you…