Separations between objects are often called space because language and convention make us draw boundaries.
-R. Lanza
it’s hard to know how one person will lead to another, to a porch in fall in new orleans in a pandemic with coffee and conversation, and here is the way life fallows in hours spent called introduction and where we lead off in certain seasons of perfectly unaware of all of the facets of failure we hide within us. We talk always somewhere between honesty and the fiction of memory: To say i am unaware of how you could ever really see me, so let me hold up for you some versions i find most palatable. i never know what others really want from me except to be reflected back, and when called will i able be love enough. can i convince any stranger that in this unsafe place we inhabit called america that i am close enough to pet wildly, i am soft enough inside this armor that you could lay your head here and this biting is accordance, it’s the way i will taste to see if you are safe as well.
let me diagram this occasion:
in the left hand field, i will need you to draw a triangle and name three beings with whom you have strife.
in the right hand field, i will need you to draw a circle filled with expectation.
in the core of you, i will need you to determine if any feelings you've ever experienced are actually "real" and not simply projections of the sensate world.
burn everything you have been taught before this moment.
nothing will serve you once we are delivered from time.
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