roasted sink -n- chin tippers

You ever try to steal yourself some fire? You know, take 5 qubics of fire and pour it in a cup? No, of course not. Fire gets all over and into everything, you can’t simply ask it to slow down or stop getting bigger, now can you? It just makes more and more of itself. Like water, kinda.

But fire? Try to fit fire indivisibly, like try to cut some fire in half. Fire isn’t atomic, I don’t believe it necessarily weighs a thing. Water, though, water contains these building blocks of creation we call our existence. Unravel their curvature along the valleys and mountains, their gravity and polarity, ripping the faces off caves underground for so long that it takes eons before the stones finally start screaming and bellowing into echoes, muffled by the light chatter of individual raindrops singing in chorus, falling in waterfalls.

There’s so much dark matter in the universe, I’m beginning to think that we’re the dark matter.

At least, according to this one guy who said he seen it. Right? We’re pretty invisible to the cosmos, at least, according to the woodland animals and outer space beings. They seem fairly unaware of our existence, outside of how we do or don’t fit into their plans.

We think we are doing a great job at understanding, organizing or tearing apart all of reality, but it seems space and time wants to continue to simply “grow a new one”, despite all our best efforts.

I don’t think that’s legal. It’s probably not, which is why we get outraged at existence or whatever this behemoth of forward time travel (the old-fashioned way, day to night-like, like back in the old days) wants to call itself or reveal itself as, these days.

Speaking of these days, what is it, Tuesday? And why, no one asks.

Cuz we said so, a long time ago, and are still doing it, calling Tuesdays, ‘Tuesday’, but the 818424932543905487309483 parsecs of stars out there in the galaxy don’t seem concerned with what we decided to start calling days we made up and use to organize space and time into our own individual understandings, together, at all. It just goes on being forward-traveling time, hurtling through the cosmos, mending the irreparable and chaotic damage of a new reality unmaking itself to be revealed in a permanent past and mysterious future as it reaches it.

Or not! WHATEVER. Maybe I’m wrong, you certainly have your own perspective, or at least opinion, wouldn’t you?

Don’t you? Don’t let me tamper with that, I’ve got my own perspective.