For the sake of each supposed spark.

If I could explain his insanity becoming, imagine: a man tries to evince telekinesis; he does nothing else until he bends a spoon. Eventually he sees it about to bend. Interprets stress marks. Believes it’s worth his time. Believes he’s almost there. Quietly it becomes his enterprise. He races a clock that isn’t ticking. Because of course his life is not like that; his qualia exceeds his perceptions of its breadth. Everything he processes pertains to the spoon, and wroughts his faith that is unshakable.


flag_of_taliban_original-svg-copy-21 copy 35

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s