I can only pass on a fraction of what I see and understand.
This language is a helper, a cleaner, sharper, sometimes meaner gardener that wants to trim my branches and clear the whims and fancies that I like to play in.
But there is so much more than what I am writing and saying, these letters and lines are not fully portraying the games I am playing in my head to get a better grasp on what is really going on in this human situation.
When I am well-rested, the best is all around, all sights and sounds, skin sensations, but not smells cause I canβt tell one scent from another.
There are worlds that transcend the energies we spend trying to comprehend them; Not magical realms or fairytale fantasy lands just undiscovered countries of knowledge that man has yet to get to.
When I look at you, I see an unknown quantity, family history, strange ancestry going back to a gross glowing goo that went through so much to get to become the full wonder that you are.
I see mental calculations, physical exertions in repetitions and multi planar movements, a magnitude of observations, and opportunities that were neglected because you let your mind and body redirect you from truths scientific.
I see the poetry of experiences written on your skin, reflected in your muscles, and the wrinkles when you are smiling.
When I am driving listening to audiobooks podcasts, or music I use all of it, try to imagine new and inverted ways to say what I want to convey passing on what makes us great and what I hate about the human race.
But there is just so much, and I donβt always have the patience to write that way.