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why is the forest always underwater when i dream?

February 18, 2008 in languages, life, humanity

poor little words… they cannot be three dimensional. they can’t turn a corner and see depth.

my eyes are metal. i have to focus to not look at him; consciously resist. should i exhale my concentration, he is a magnet, my eyes are metal

when technology creeped out of its cave, humanity tried to define it through nature. trains were giant slugs, looms were spider webs.

metamorphosis? it’s a virus attacking a computer system that is ready to shut down. technology. now i comprehend.

we are all cyborgs now anyway. we can melt into the soil, being encapsulated by ivy, and we can be hooked up to wires and scaned through networks.

but in the end, there’s only so much you can give.

is that what criticism feels like? resistance, acceptance, resistance, acceptance at war?

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