We are in accord. Tied together. Making notes. A musical glossolallia. A squeezed discipline of screaming. Hanging by a thread. Bemused. Metamorphosed expletives. Kali’s red tongue feeling edge of black holes. The moment before breakfast. (Missile/missive/folded space).
This…so much of this is what I’ve been feeling today. A feeble attempt at mapping lives without the meanest sense of where the hell I’m going. Just a stumbler on the dark.
Perhaps, if I am lucky, I’ll stumble upon a candle.
How do you see your way through the days of darkness when the matches cannot be found?
Yes, true. Or sometimes we find that another has located the book and struck a light. Another holds the candle out, and bids us towards the light.