Today is Whole Zero. This is the day you navigate the swamps. You trudge over the strange heather, the stretched, gaping, cool moors, in the mist and clouds, with the dark green trees dangling and draping around you in swarms. This is Absolute. Today you ignore to confront. Today you go into hell further to get out. You are coming out From Hell. You are more. You are More.You are moor. You, Amour.
You suck up into your head the wind from the cold day, and it all dries up and cracks right. Grounds crumble, hands shrivel. You don't worry anymore. You're already gone in there. Stumbling down is nothing. Help you crash delightfully, you ask. You call 'help me clang down deep through the cables and wires and ridges of the self and wade through the swamps, wallow in the muck' Nothing is punctuated, Everything punctured.
And let's take a good bath. Let's find a warm spring. Let's find the shore. Any shore. A shore. Surely it is coming, surely it is here now.
Hello. Forgive me, Universe. You have been and are so abundant, generous, and kind. Forgive me.
Hello, now.
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