walkathon

 

the sun here is sharper, more direct, fewer layers between me and the cosmos, as I walk in it

baldly put, my journey has been a series of repetitive walks down a few disconnected paths, with rebellion every now and then, when ennui sets, its been fantastic and horrific, its been life

im convinced any journey involving one or more humans, is a saga of mishap and ugliness, tantrums and lewdity, coincidence and work, sometimes leading to a satisfactory billboard, if you airbrush it right

the danger in these harmless human pastimes, is the addiction to the airbrush, the growing belief in its invincibility, its wielding as a weapon of mass destruction

returning to earth is such a difficult process, fraught with unconscious denial, and the very human impulse of exalting-obscuring, a direct gravity journey with a lot of bullshit

in this present moment, warm and endless, I find myself quite bored with immortality