time_runs_away raze i feel like this month came into focus about two seconds ago, and now i'm looking over my shoulder to see it slinking away from me before i even had the chance to tell it my name. i still don't know how this happens. i should be used to the ongoing acceleration of time by now, or the acceleration of my perception of it, or whatever this is that happens, that continues to happen, that will go on happening until i no longer happen and i no longer see or smell or touch or eat or sleep and time loses all meaning or feeling to me and whatever is next is here, even if what's next reveals itself to be nothing at all. time runs away. the world endures. it grows and stumbles and deteriorates and heals itself in a myriad of invisible ways, but it won't leave. we'll be gone before this space we inhabit goes anywhere. we're little more than tourists passing through. when you're young, you think life is long. you look up, and ahead, and everything you see looms large and is bloated with mystery. life is short. everything that was once large shrinks until you're able to hold it in your hand and regard it with a strange kind of fear, because that used to be a skyscraper, and now it's a plastic replica no larger than a cigarette lighter. where once you would dream of climbing the thing, now you could step on it and crush it without thinking, and anyone who lived inside would be dead before they knew anything had happened. we run. but not like time. our paths are erratic, understood least of all by the minds driving the bodies doing the running. time runs in a straight line, to a dark place we cannot follow. and inside that pitiless lithosphere lives everything lost that will never be found again. 130430 what's it to you? who go blather from