it was a dark and soundless morning

days like today I indulge in static, in a comfort stationary, slowly sinking into silence. it may have been yesterday. the significance of everyday things oscillate wildly between pointless and all the difference between impoverishment and civilization. I wish again with a liquid desperation to realize a life neatly stacked on cubes of fact. the vision of myself as the focal pivot between progress and not, looms huge and constant, and I can hardly breathe or think to move. the ebb and flow of living, the rush of feelings and sunlight and cold, are enormous and ludicrous in a palate of continuous daily todos of constant temper and quality, like storms and wildfires scattering neatly arranged instructions for progression, the fact that there is music is filled with guilt and reluctance, terrible and incongruous. in the age of scientific reason, and exponentials of fractaloid machine logic, the real world is dulling steadily, systematically, I stumble around flat footed scattering the peace of a billion pixels. the deadly fear of water conquered by braving the elements to get toilet paper. in the hush of morning light and stale snow all around, I could be the only living human, there are no leaves left to fall, only cars with eerie light.