november 25th, 2021




no one speaks
there is nothing to say
channels are left hanging open as a courtesy
the courtesy is veiled mockery - everyone knows they will go unused

each is sitting in a separate room - at a post
which was not assigned but which emerged like the product of a natural force
a sufficient supply of mental stopgaps is provided to escort each from birth to death
existence beyond the physical is gladly forsaken. no one is happy

objects travel in paths throughout a given space - this is and always was life
but now "life" is merely objects traveling in paths throughout a given space

all potentials are nullified - the thoroughness of the massacre is stunning

someone, somewhere, far away, is speaking
the shattering antithesis of a numbed state is realized with the greatest eloquence
it doesn't matter very much - non-intersecting localities are basically separate worlds
each sphere of human life is embedded in the total world - but this doesn't count for much
observers on opposite ends of the universe diverge from one another at the speed of light
it is impossible under any circumstances for them to ever again interact in any capacity
one hopes blindly that a positive ripple or two might carry on occasion

one begins to methodically exclude imitations of life
and finds themselves switching off monitors one by one
until the room is completely dark

they sit in the dark and yearn for the moment
that the chemical reactions of spirit sparking inside them
will finally settle into the shape of their self-produced cure

they sit in the dark - a locality, a universe to itself