from TDK

I am a small spacecraft. I am this individual person on the earth, sitting alone with my thoughts. I expand with the universe over aeons. I am enormous – bigger than any telescopic view. I am one giant heap of memories. I am history repeating itself.
On a bed I lie, overcome with debilitating despair, held down by heavy gravity. I am a star, a moon, a galaxy in spiral. I am defeated human man – immersed in these lower frequencies. But once I was golden.

My head aches and my neck is strained. My stomach is a knot and my heart beats on pins and needles. I remember having more faculties intact. I was interstellar. I was a space bird in flight with photon wings. All these things was I. And here I am. . . estranged from my own will and my own way.
I play with light and darkness. I make dreams realities. I slow down rates of vibration until they condense into physicality. I do this ignorantly, victim of circumstance on the skin of this madcap planet that hangs by a magnetic thread on the brink of universal solitude. I am far removed. I am illusion stuck in mediocrity. Once was I efficiently functioning – coherent and lucid. But here am I now. . . dying inside. Look at me. You’ll see next to nothing.
You don’t know me, do you? We are but dreams irritated upon awakening. We are strangers, bygones of time. We are magnetically reversed, opposed to our own selves. Observe as we carry out the oblivion day by day. I do not indulge you and you are not approved. You are a blip on the radar, falling dead out of the sky.
I am the sun. I am on fire.
I am a small spacecraft – grounded. I am animal man, for hire.
I am a practice in futility. You are an unconscious disavow to all that bleeds. I am abstract thought. You are demented action. Between us are the words that disservice us.
I am gainsay and you are rejection. I am magic in the trunk and you are a supernatural amnesiac.
Together we are a package deal of denial.
You are a small spacecraft, marooned. I am mission control, on hold.
I am postponed, you are sold out.
You are a great divide, I am a dotted line. You, addition and subtraction. I, division and multiplication. We are on a periodic table of elements.
You are every-woman, I am no-man. Together we are nebulous, birthplace of stars, pre-cognition. Just your garden variety fucktards

Who’s the fractal and who’s the pattern. What’s it matter.

(Incomplete)