This acceleration--yourself watching yourself vaulting forward through decades, the permeable plasma of time--can be disorienting. The g force pulls. It disfigures the clarity of your handsome face. If it lasts...
A minute longer and you will faint, forgetting weeks and months and seasons. You will wake up stumbling in a smeared hallway, recklessly hurling down a highway paved with adrenaline where you careen. But, keep breathing. Check your pulse. Check your baggage. Take what you can...
With you, I feel what I would like to call calm but at this speed, this feeling (this love?) is more like stability than peace. You steady me. You hold together this aging spaceship, this rusting Toronado, this eroding body. Growing old...
I am getting wiser. I am retreating from my fears. Vanquished, they lay where I left them. The frontiers of me are torn and bloody, but those battles are done. And I imagine futures that find miracles, and futures that find peace...
Death-bed conversions and catholic perversions, past aspersions by those begrudged against both my values and my character. The unnecessary dramas of a fragmented dream depart from me--scraps of paper in the wind--the longer I am awake...
I remember many things: gravity and weightlessness. One reminds the other. Each assures the other of its validity. And what are we but in between; we are formlessness enclosed in form, the immaterial soul constrained by body, flesh and blood and water...
Time is fluid, at any speed. Its just that evaporation occurs. Velocity is, of course, a kind of heat...
