Picking up wool with your needles A long straight lineΒ Β turns into a sweater Change The rule is that we move towards the unknown Or away from it Which one do you want it to be
Hatred rises from below Reaching the maximum ability of vague comprehension It starts and ends in the same moment I think I can imagine myself without a final point in this Cosmos Knitting myself out of the dimension I was destined for is futile
All understanding: science, religion, merchandisable forms of expression, art, philosophy manipulates a piece of us but I am left devastated No amount of material will make a sweater thick enough to keep out the universal cold