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look at the stream of life, the streaming of consciousness, each in their own contained, Untouchable bubble. their private world, heading in one direction, toward One destination. yet separate, disparate, diverging, Disassociating. Why is this? as machines show no recognition, so too, is the car’s shell aptly assumed; purposeful, intent, yet is this humanity? oh but there is not time to Stop. to think reflect muse wonder for, the stream continues, rushing… flashing… by, in a droop, a mere flutter, of the eye. is this an Escape? the final great escape? or just Life as we know it.
0
Nov 15, 2009
Nov 15, 2009 at 12:39 AM UTC
The Highway
look at the stream of life, the streaming of consciousness, each in their own contained, Untouchable bubble. their private world, heading in one direction, toward One destination. yet separate, disparate, diverging, Disassociating. Why is this? as machines show no recognition, so too, is the car’s shell aptly assumed; purposeful, intent, yet is this humanity? oh but there is not time to Stop. to think reflect muse wonder for, the stream continues, rushing… flashing… by, in a droop, a mere flutter, of the eye. is this an Escape? the final great escape? or just Life as we know it.
Written by
Australian
Nov 15, 2009
Nov 15, 2009 at 12:39 AM UTC
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