Monday, November 17, 2014


Moments, self-contained, infinite, bubbles, eternally real.  Each born into their center flowing to a unique originating past and outward into a future without limit or boundary.

Strung together, tethered by consciousness, each by its own existence, butting up against another making it the lie, never merging or blending into a stream.  

So time flows from one moment through to another to contain them, it’s self another lie and illusion of consistency. 

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