Dag: 4. september 2018

everything becomes impossible if you are to realize your doubt.
to be visible means not to know what’s seen.
over and over and over again and again.
 
is it all a mystery? no, only what has no answer.
is it all a mystery?
to be alone on a break in the cloakroom of civilisation.
 
nothing is more to you than yourself.
step in the manure of massive combinations.

the bounds of futility’s grounds run down the hillside.
experience is eventually forgotten.
a rampant outlook on life, shamans?
 
don’t take the first option for best.
and it came to pass one morning you were forgotten.and it came to pass one morning you were forgotten.
according to some algorithms you don’t understand; loving.
 
no sign that anyone’s here.

oh, your harried memory.
let’s all pull ourselves out of this dozy state.
the past doesn’t ask solutions up to dance.
 
hammer on the temples.
if there’s no such thing as good, why does it hurt so bad?
don’t lean too far towards me, you’ll stay like that.
 
aye, the eye is a lens.aye, the eye is a lens.
oh, you’re own unique character cannot be pinned down.

time is vertical and the sparrows.
dear saturday, you’re my favourite.
already older, seconds are all that separate.
 
in other words, feelings can get up, come in!
the red of swedish summer cottages is two hundred years old.
the spider’s web glistens like the down on a branch in the sun.
 
light fog, memory’s flight from the present.