Meanwhile

Balance.

Repetition.

Composition.

Mirrors.

Most of all, the world is a place where parts of wholes are described

within an overarching paradigm of clarity and accuracy.

The context in which makes possible an underlying

sense of the way it all fits together,

despite our collective tendency not to conceive of it as such.

But then again, the world without end is a place where souls are combined,

but with an overbearing feeling of disparity and disorderliness.

To ignore it is impossible without getting oneself into all of kind of trouble,

despite one's best intentions to not get entangled with it so much.

Meanwhile,

the statues are bleeding green.

And others are saying things much better than we ever could;

as the quiet become suddenly verbose.

And the hail's heralding the size of nickels.

And the street corners are gnashing together like the gears

inside the head of some omniscient engineer.

And downward flows the garnered wisdom that has never died

Then finally,

we opened the box, we couldn't find any rules.

Our heads were reeling with the glitter of possibilities, contingencies...

but with ever increasing faith we decided to go ahead and just ignore them,

despite tremendous pressure to capitulate with fate.

So instead, we went ahead to fabricate a catalog

of unstable elements and modicums and particles.

With not zero total strangeness for brief moments which amount

to nothing more than tiny fragments of a finger snap.

Meanwhile,

we're furiously seeing green.

And the map has started tearing along its creases due to overuse...

when in reality it's never needed folds.

And the air's witholding the sound of its wellspring,

and our heads are approacing a density reminiscient of the connectivity

of the center of the sun

and therein lies the garnered wisdom

that has never died

Expectation leads to disappointment

if we don't expect something big, huge, and exciting

usually, uh

i dont know, it's just not as, yeah

(via Aurea Mediocritas)