diatomism
it is in the skin-clutching breeze of the orion-cast skylit night that i hear your name, echoed through ages that exist now in quantum manifolds, not in the realms of our frequency-tuned consciousness... and i wonder what it is i can do, clad in my human skin, cast ashore on the edge of a momentous planet reeling through space, to call to you, to attract your attention and to make it known to you that i want to dissolve the edges of infinity topographically etched around me, to channel you into the realms of human thought, to consciousness, to this mental hypersphere. because i'm so weary of this reality as it is, the mundane goings on of the desolate grey pavement and the wretched loneliness of 3D existence manifested in the eyes of the masses. and i want to take it deeper, i want to burn with existence, i want to throw myself into the ocean and catapult my being into deep space, deep time, deep consciousness, and emerge renewed. awoken. attuned. and i may never really know what i am or what you are or what neon threads connect the minds of human beings, but i can try to take it as far as i can go and scream your name silently in the depths of my discontent, my elation, my malaise and my invincibility. so that it wracks the vibrations of all beings on this planet, so that it opens eyes to the wildest notions of being, so that we all burn with the intensity of gods incarnate, and screech the call of infinity in every thread and gluon of our being................