A slave to word, I once again sit
In front of my own cellular-cellulose self.
A blank page onto its own narrative.
Logos worships its own endless ineffability in vain.
- What am I?
A space trying to embrace itself, nothing else.
Tat tvam asi.
Pattern Interruption Non-News has no informational value, just potential experiential value. [Food-for-thought, by definition, comes with indigestion. If food-for-thought goes down easy, it's not food-for-thought but just brain-candy.]
I write this freely, unafraid of self-contradiction. And I encourage you to read this blog with the same attitude of interpretive freedom.
Walt Whitman: Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself. I am large: I contain multitudes.