one of the few

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turbulent sunshine grows

out in the east, where eyes were almost sown shut

with silken lies that bore through virgin minds and burrowed

their fibers near the cores of permanence.

what makes decay defy the relativity of man’s immediate relevance.

what makes moments memorable. when must awakenings occur.

the insanity of insolvency, the escapism of meaning, the fear of futility–

–all swallow the selfs.

who is who is who when there never existed explicit defined definitions of

destination.

how can there be claimed knowledge if it never acts never seeks to know.

growth only occurs with purpose, with simultaneous effort.

the dimming light falls fast in the west

why must it be so.

those dangerous diffidents die forgotten forever

to never fall across the paths of now or the elsewhere to come.

how far has the alive actuality actually drifted from the mean and

when did it all lose shape.

why does the matter of the form of the thing it is no longer have

any bearing upon what it is. what its not.

across an infinite wave of incomprehension the hunt for exacting

for wholeness for precision–

always only existed for the few.

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