The Pulse
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At least I'm not dead yet, anyway, I felt
this needed to be said. Binary stream,
conscious, & converted... paranoia to
biologically process... domestic &
corporate with intentions to protect... fire
with water, the sun & a candle... rescued
for research, sorting & resorting to any
means necessary... this form of formless
love, disassociating with the illusion of
fear... paradoxes move forward to
understand, to press more buttons, &
once again smash the hardware... in
touch with the pulse of a technological
culture... with invisible stress, to prepare,
to stare into the unknown dream, &
know. Ok, so I say, time to write today,
up against a wall to express, a test, &
some text. So what's next? Not knowing,
nothing showing, the void is destroyed,
leaving me numb.
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