Can’t tell if my mind is moving too much
or my eyes aren’t.
It was just hailing,
but now an ochre sun is piercing through
the thick blanket of clouds.

—

Now the sky is blue.
The weather has released me.
The clouds fell from the sky
as this weight will fall from me.
I will walk in the woods.
walking on the gray—
on the haze.
It is beneath me now, in the ground.
As the clouds die, they feed the earth
with their corpses
and the earth will feed me.
With me.
Breathe me.

Life and decay are the same thing.

If I rot, will I not
simply become something else?

or maybe not.
The longer I inhabit this body
the more it seems like a simple
vessel, containing the multitude
that is me.
The universe has given me this gift.
This curse.
This magic.

God and science are the same thing.

“Nothing is sacred” and “Everything is sacred”
are the same **** phrase.

Heaven and hell are the same **** place.

No past, present, or future.
Just everything,
all at once.

Now is a concept.
Fate isn’t real
only because the future isn’t real.
Our perception of time is a coping mechanism.

Why else would the past feel so close?

Don’t just live in the present.
Exist. In everything.

The universe is only as big as our minds.
Our minds are infinite.
We are just blind.