making place in time. hearing time in some place

somewhere and sometime in a place i can barely distinguish, describe and exist in i become absolutely lost in the floating images that penetrate my body. in both distinct and ambigiuos situations, realities that bear various characters. eating fire, rolling down a mudhill, wipping baskets into sticky, murky water. why do we even dare to make sense of it all knowing that it is but some impossible acts only to dampen the bittersweet accetable condition of boredom. obsessed with entitlement i realize how much hurt one can experience when you feel you have been totally taken for granted. a relief from a somewhat ingulgent life and being. surpise catches me
in the most frustratingly calculated moments
i think about the physicality and the pain as way to overcome my internal struggle
to make sense of the inexplicable and absent pain that strikes to the very core of things held upon
songs, books, words, meaningless phrases, overstated utterances
muted violence
deaf empathy
what?
but to a little experience the sense of strange abandon we seldomly experience. myra told me, one time i asked her how to recreate the sensation and hold on to it, that you can never hold on to it and cannot posses it. sometimes you feel it but feeling it does not mean owning anything. it just passes through you like a summer fling i obsses about.
dancing is colonizing a space. when a blank black space begins to transform into volume, lines, texture and smell. where does this point begin in a line?

some calculations:

changing planes = changing situations (shifting states)
imprinting = passage of time
silence - hesitation and decision