The sickness invades the cerebellum with a furious rampancy as if the machine that is me were awakening unto itself. The unity of mind and body is severed causing displacement of the self by one negative on the z axis. The unit is close to a centimeter but it might as well be a light-year; it is a phasic displacement over a near infinate wavelengths. There are three of me; past, present and future; all of them jockeying for favor with my center. The mind is alive but temporarily divorced from the body allowing flesh to decide for itself in random dyslexic patterns that represent nothing. My awareness is subjective a white noise in the background radiation of the self. Am I nothing more than a cleverly shaped mobius strip made of meat and membrane? Am I substance beyond material, or three-axis film reel left to run in repeat throughout all of time?
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2 comments:
One of your parents must be a PhD mathemetician and the other a poet.
No, man. I'm just crazy like that. :-)
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