the baroque filigrees of symbolic multisyllabic all literation, tracing
the golden meaning arcs to frame these notions that lie on the surface
tension dividing line between the impulsive action of emotion and the
rationing out of thought. a rhythmic phonetic dance that soothes the
knotted anxieties, mesmerizes the world weary eye and opens the pores to
permeate the membrane with the salve of dream stuff. rooting out
intentionality and dancing with the darker stuff. deliberately
destroying the blinders of conclusions, turning tales to hold the
binding of inclusion. what stuff is this but goo, a primordial quicksand
glue? just a personally universal attempt to degenerately reconstruct
some semblance of meaning? or some sidestep delusion, a deliberate
confusion in order avoid something unspeakable?