division kyla No longer does my memory require your dialogue of weathered mathematics-- days, years, epochs--the old edges melted together without distinction-- without permission, though, if asked, I would have granted it. The questions we most revere have always defeated us-- still we look up at them with eyes of waterful conceit. Now, I may say, Do Not Suppose In Me Any Further Desire For Answers. Wisdom is no longer implied in the passing of time--neither is the passing of time implied, only displayed--an ornament not to be understood or contemplated, only...positioned somewhere duly politic. 020917 ... silentbob joy 020918 ... warmthofrelease (re: 2014.09.19 (smoking_in_the_mirror)) You can possibly hear the sound loudly enough from the street, maybe. Or downstairs where the neighbors sometimes are. It's the sound of All_Of_A_Sudden_I_Miss_Everyone skipping. A record intentionally broken, at a volume, at first unnoticeable in sheer height to the only person fully on top of the wave. I just needed to hear one sound loudly enough and enough times that I can transcribe the sound into me forever to feel a sharp needle's marking_my_mind like etching wax into wet new birth I don't actually know if you could hear the sound from the street or not, I didn't feel like I could ask and I pretended it wasn't important. 240819 what's it to you? who go blather from