For you it may mean nothing,
but to me it means everything.
For you it may mean death,
but for me it means life.
For you it may be the smallest thing,
but for me its the biggest.
Don't doubt me.
Don't hate me.
I know what is right,
but you've got it all wrong.
you are absolutely necessary and utterly unimportant.
you are not important because
everything is important and important means
you are better than the mud
you are not
i can say this because
i want to be content. and to be so
i think i must owe myself to everything. because every little piece makes the puzzle, every tiny drop of paint changes the color, whether
i can see it. down to the atom, every rock that
i step on, every bird in my ear, every bearable sting of guilt felt from swatting a fly, they have worked in perfect proportion, each paint drops precisely suffused to the present shade of my experience. and if
i am to be at peace, my life should not be measured but
i must be accepting of
everything as it comes.
i find this possible in realizing that the stretch in my smile and the tears on my cheek are all just as needed in shading me. no single experience makes the man. and to be accepting of the summation
i must accept that every single experience in my collective past was utterly necessary. every single experience, and each minor detail of each experience, and how they scatter on the surface like little melting beads, and how they eventually sink and mix; all single molecules of paint diffusing in the only proportion to make the present shade of my life, none more important than the other, down to the atom, ultimately equal.
not in quantity, but in quality
everything equal. what it means is that
i love you. but
i love the sweat greased ball bearings of dirt in my boot
i love the percussion of infection drenched nerves in my foot
i love the salt stick of your skin and staunch of your cough as you beat through the barreling wind. and
i love the invisible river of shivering brush waving like cilia down the valley. into the bioluminescence of our L.A. colony.
i love you if you love me and
i love you if
you hate me. because even your hate will drop like paint into me and change the shade to something
i have not yet seen.
i know we have different eyes but
i think this works for mine.
i will love you in equivalence to every molecule
utterly unimportant and absolutely necessary.
Everything is. . .
Nothing is. . .
Everything does not exist.
The . dream . of . life .
Realized when you die
In eternity's sun.rise.
This dream constructed. . .
In the psyche adjusted. . .
To fit past points of view.
Thousands of years ago
I thought this thought. . .this notion.
I said it then . and now I say it again:::. . .:::. . .:::
If life is the end.
Death . must . just .
Be . the . start.