[Preface: I cannot sleep….why is why i cannot, and that is all on that matter for now. I made the picture below last year during a multimedia session in my avant-garde comp lit course. Plopping it here to further archive my life.]
And then there was one. The individual cannot exists. There is one alone and thus ‘I’ i dissipates into the cyclic, carnivorous lungs of the ruthless carbon cycle. Gone. Duality is necessary to define one individual entity. Duality is the margin of error for motion. Motion is the breathing space and position between us, defining us, connecting us. Language, words, sound: we sing life, or something like it, in metaphors and symbols we recycle through the air. We are inspired wind fulfilling an inspired mind and a skilled hand through a body and released like cathartic, creative truth aloud, our secret told in one sonorous big bang: the people rise like one thousand hissing bayonets. We are everything that one higher power could be. We create and perceive the sensation expressed with sounds in lyric and song. So poetry is profound, so poetry is so oh so profound, sonorous amorous profound.