I'm sad.
And that's okay.

This heaviness in my heart
is not mine alone,
I carry it for my mother
and my father
and his mother

I carry it for her husband

who quickly became
the demon
sleeping in the
shadows
that then became
a
stain
who's faint edges
still linger.

Deep and bruised
like my heart
after that day
confused and
oh, so green

I was already shedding
my innocence,
but you stole
hers

in one moment.

And for this
she
starves
herself
of nourishment

of unadulterated
joy

her body,
something she feels
shame
about

all because you thought
every
body
was yours
to be played
with.

It rose from dark void
A place lifeless and decrepit
Where even deities avoid
The 8 keepers in the centre

Like snakes they trap so tight
To pull you into the tarry abyss
Even toothless they grip like a bite
And leave a crimson circle kiss

Like a badge of honour that's deeper than just skin
To escape the waves of a stormy star sea
And like a captain that's never seen the terrors within
The only way to delay the inevitable is to flee

The celestial bodies act like sand in an hourglass
An unstoppable whirlpool of singularity
Like a drain-pipe of light that shows nothing will ever last
With hourglass bottom down in eternal eventuality

Just like the most brutal storm there is always an end
The 8 keepers are encroaching on all there will ever be
Using reality like a wet map that will tear and bend
The sea of existence will settle forever in entropy

It rose the dark void
And all is lifeless and decrepit
Because nothing could ever avoid
The 8 keepers in the centre

Baseline fractures
Faults in the earth
Inevitable crevices, unfathomable
Depths, and the-
                         -another?
                              Baseline fractures



Darkest shores
A dozen dead mourners
Grey lights and
A land without corners

Horizons twist bitter
Into themselves
The world descends further
Out of the shelves

From dust a baseline
From dust a hall
From dust to dust
It's just a hall

I don’t care if there’s not a reason why.  
I’m going to fight until I find one,
or just make up my own.  
I’ll be my own God.  
I’ll write my own myth,
create my own universe,
proclaim my own reason for being.

grey snow rushes at me
just how the world would be if i
understood it. the sky
is spread out, mystified, as if
i read its hieroglyphs
and from them gain the gift, the one
guidance long forgotten,
lest it pulls us undone. i read.

the mouth of the wide vortex is in esse,
made of the same atoms as flowers and
oceans, organs and soundwaves, it demands
physics, laws, follows them with faithfulness
just like one of us. nothing more nor less
is it, no great power does it command:
in disbelief we shoot it from our land
back to its ‘place’, no boundaries transgressed.
how could we believe in those new places
viewed from the jaws of the living threshold?
that it’s all like our home, all vast and old
and developed. if we just go into space,
the secrets we long for would then unfold.
with care, accept the vortex’s embrace.

What is quantifiable are the symbols. What isn't quantifiable are the zones between the symbols, unless there are many symbols present that form spaces.
There are partial symbols, i.e. a gesture of an animal is present but not the form of the animal.
Reality stays more abstract with partial symbology.
What is known about the symbol gives reality meaning.
Speaking of visions as symbols separates the meaning from the visual experience.
The person who doesn't see the symbol as the reality has not been exposed to reality which is somewhat hard to ascertain.
When, in dreams for example, there are just collages of things, it is hard to say that it is more than a collage. But if I recognize symbology, it allows me to see every part of the picture.
Symbols are more for the artist than the scientist who simply wants to verify what happens in reality. While transcendent of verification of meaning is reality "filler", yet it attains to meaning only if it is seen as symbol.
The filler is more abstract because logic only exists here if we consciously give something meaning. Otherwise a huff of a dog, for example, is merely a passing image.
Since concrete objects already have existential meaning, they cannot constitute as filler.
Visions, because they only partially exist, calls into question existence itself.
In filler reality, it becomes participatory as to giving reality meaning or just enjoying the visions.
What separates this filler world from normal mind is that meaning is no longer the key to reality.
Simply experiencing the visuals explain reality in an easy way.
Meaning almost ruins the mode of experience.