wisefool

I foresee immeasurable space and un-tickable time
that separates us more and more every moment.

Entangled. . . until the next super-imposition.

A microwaved mental mozzarella.
Expanding, Exploding, and Attaching to any adjacent entity.
The metastasis of manifestations.

An aura precedes your emergence.
It's a priming of my psyche.

A thought precedes your presence.
A will into being. . . .
My presence precedes my thought.

Tap your shoes three times.

Geworfenheit.
Geworfenheit.
Geworfenheit.

Voila. . .

Three strikes, ignite a flame.

Thrice 'round, it's a charm, they said . .

Three licks to the center, they said . . .

When the first and second impulses don't generate action, are they ever known?

Is it all screaming into a vaccum?
Ouroboric radiation and absorption?

One must know. One witness.
One mind senses all movement.

The eye that sees doesn't need to believe. . . for it is a matter of gnow-ledge. . . .
Better. . a knowledge of matter.

It's
the projection of geometric conjecture
and the constellation of paint
that splashed back on Pollock's face.

It's
a casting of chaotic calculations
and a chiasmus of coding.

It's
a seer tracing the oscillations of pixelated digits
and numeromancing into a dreamstate.

It's
the Windows 95 screensaver.

It's a one reflected as a zero.
Existing in a double-slit experiment.

Does unobserved existence exist?

Someone once told me they heard the bear's excrement hit the forest floor.

__________________
Say hello to my frontal lobe.

gonzo

nice

__________________
Time is still the infinite jest.