timelessness spurns me on. to want more. knowledge, wholeness and completion, liberation from this litter of diseases and desires. bemuses as it inspires, insults as it gives hope. hope to that temporal thing which quivers at the blackened, threaded mass that sits ahead like a fresh sponge soaked with lives and spoils. always ahead. always evokes a maddening trying to grasp it, trying to understand why, trying to reject and deny, trying to hide from, trying to make sane the insanity of it all. tis strange how the days seep into futility and yet, beyond the blackness is a light kind of madness. perhaps that is what destiny is. beyond the fusion of energies there is a pale light that lingers, like a vinegar waiting to betray a germ.