Nebulas bloom, collide and comets zoom around the checker board a bratty little brother on his new bike leaving trails of ice in his wake
Ancient cosmic afterbirth floats helplessly on it's own inertia waiting impatiently for the bullying gas giant to it towards it's next and I sit in a Thai in the curry, fretting over the uncertainty of the
I need to arm myself like a lower on the chain readying itself for the next attack all sides
The voice inside the box is certain that if I get what he has my armor will be complete, my hole will be filled, and the bombardment will
"This does this, that gadget does those, and this magazine will address the most pertinent of my dot, dot, dot, com" and I believe him! I don't to but I do!
I am a little kitten in a big, shit filled litter box and I share this facility with a billion fiercely independent felines who want badly to arm themselves too against the burdens of uncertainty and keep their paws clean in the meantime! meantime, meantime, meantime... Yet the I dig, the more I consume, the more I unfold, the less protected I feel
I am the spit on the hair of a son of an electron swimming around the nucleus of a cell inside the sperm of a killer bee and my purpose is as nebulous as why we've been bestowed with the capacity to give a