Thoughts from a night out

The world is only ever one move away from reaching total distance.

I was being built with milk before I could hold myself up in the water.

The water that can be cupped in the hands is about the size of the beach.

Desire is a multiplicity whose real size can only be met being-carried-out.

I am here to dry where the rain can no longer fall.

Things fall through us: routine to an inevitable paranoia.

Songs to be made like clouds going one way across.

Nowhere in the world is the world that large.

Whatever the weather, a way out of the temperatures cannot be forecast.

I have previously suggested that my mistake was speaking for a second after a first time. Now, I want to be of the opinion that a-multiple-that-is could only ever be uncovered – and so recovered – if tried multiple times.

The way forward is how I worry about the way back.

People are as pretty as the unicorn that such beauty causes to sink.

My time-wasting is just a side-effect.

I am still trying to make ground in the way the world turns.

But what should be assumed of a world that, in self-made preferences, would spiral off by an entirely different gravitational compulsion? A bigger star, and it is already gone. (And how similar are we, the people, to such a phenomenon?)

There is always something that was “left to do”. Forgotten for the for-getting, perhaps.

Perhaps in attraction the only question is: how much are you willing to compromise; how deeply into another field are you willing to spiral?

Things certainly have to improve their best version.

I have a preference for things that do not stay the same. Just as I also have a preference that, more often than not, does not stay the same.

The way to wake up to things that happen is to fall asleep well.

Question: will we ever be able to lift as much as we fall?

It is time to dry.

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