ex//quisite
there is a time. there is a place. for everything and for nothingness.
my time is unaware, my place is nonexistent. It is everything. I wait for nothing as something, a tiny speck of release from this ghostly veil of the too many/much that disperses all the points further away from me when I need to gather them the most, to smash them together and feel not all is lost (re: "all is lost" - not used as the common expression here; lost as in spaced out in time and space, as if all laws of physics don't apply for a while).
maybe this is the real (perceptual) experience of a parallel life, seen from afar...
the only reassurance is affection.
affection in all the forms it can adopt.
affection as the permanence of strength, absence of (undue) fear and the energy needed for heading forward.
