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In the slow condensing of self and the subsequent distilled drip it dawns upon you, like becoming suddenly aware that you are standing on the lip of a yawning chasm, but it's no pit that triggers your epiphany. It is perhaps a glance in the mirror, one you've made countless times, a phrase you catch yourself saying often, that when you listen to this time just does not sound right at all, like hearing your voice on a recording- it never sounds like you….to you and you realize your existence is glass fragile, your identity is as precarious as a '72 Cadillac seesawing on the brink of oblivion with you and that big block in the front end and a four-hundred pound gorilla in the back, who's nervously rolling down the window. Then that little crystalline moment ends its short fall and impacts, exploding into a million tiny fragments. You finish shaving or your mundane conversing or whatever it was that you were in the midst of and fall back into the elaborately built system of blankets, casings and cover-ups that allow you to sleep easily at night or what some would define as the human survival mechanism. A collective sigh of relief is almost audible above the din of all the world's clocks simultaneously starting back up Post a comment in response: |
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