2.15.13

9:43 AM Your fingers trail over foothill ribs, over your mountain valley mountain valley spine, to rest on your too sharp hips. Bone under muscle under skin. Blood pooling and flowing in capillaries, arteries, and veins. You look at reflection you and wonder if the way your fingers rest on papercut bonemuscleskin hips is the same. 

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You are everything and nothing at the same time. Matter and energy just cycles and recycles, over and over and over again. You are everything that has ever lived. You are nothing new. Our thoughts are electric and our emotions chemical. Plug yourself in before you shut down. Take pills to feel. Take pills not to feel. We are nothing without the lightning under our skin. Without the constant rush of dopamine, seratonin, adrenaline, exctasy. Bury me in my reflection. Bury me in clockwork lives. Bury me alive. 

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Time does not exist. Time is a concept. The ticking, ticking, ticking we hear is the beating, beating, beating of our hearts. The rise and fall and rise and fall of the sun. The Earth always spinning, spinning, spinning. That's time. The moments passing too fast to stop. After awhile, there's no proof anything happened at all. No way to go back. The clocks? Those mean nothing. The ticking, ticking, ticking that we hear every second of our lives is only in our heads. The moments? Those are what mean anything at all.