How One Folded Into Two

by    shaun lawton 

    We can no longer begin to imagine ourselves.

 We emerge from the surface of water as if from a mirror. 

Just take a look at our mutual Rorschach Stare. What do you see in there?

  This reference is one of the most extremely clear clues, or should we say the crystal through which this understanding is achieved has a clarity that is virtually unparalleled, which begs the question:

   Is there such a crystal whose clarity of focus remains so extraordinarily sharpened, that looking through it reveals clarifications in reality hither unavailable through any other means? Which is only to suggest, if there is a limit to the fabric of our own holographic reality (the Planck length, for instance), the question is once again, does there exist a crystal through which one may glimpse an even baser (or finer) aspect of reality? The answer is yes and no simultaneously; for there happens to exist such super crystallization in the cosmos, yet the very nature of our 'holographic reality' as it was phrased, is such that the Planck length designates the smallest possible unit of measurement within this reality; there is literally nothing more "in between the spaces" we can see.

   This is at once a highlight and underscoring of the inherent solitude and loneliness of any one single sentient star system; what these atomic dragons in space have done throughout legendry immemorial, is sing to one another across the silent vacuum of the interstellar regions.

   Have any of their howling songs been heard by another alphabetonic supersentient entity morass? When we look toward our own Aleph (the Sun) for example, we see a characteristic feature of only one portion of the intercosmic future Language all sentient beings arranged today face toward learning, one dim faded afternoon on a date yet to be determined by our most alert psychics.

Unstated Security Act

   Stating one has freedom of speech may be tantamount to stating one doesn't have freedom of action. Each case goes by undetermined on an individual basis. Suffice it to say those in power would still agree that "sticks and stones may break some bones but words will never hurt us," as much as those caught in between the shifting tectonics of the class-grindstone know otherwise (that words can certainly pave the soundproofed way toward expiration, whereas petty flesh wounds will heal).

What is becoming plain.

The systems of the world
may never end, but we will.

To become the system
simply observe it.

Any energy not spent
towards your dream is
wasted.

Despite this withering
tomb stone each one
of us are immortal.

The world will continue
to remain intransigent.
(a fleeting thing, really)

We are the permanent ones

Thornsian

shaun of the dead

ThoRny