Computer work and writing don't mix |
This whole new gang of thieves, the set of them, the elementals, the collection of hypocrites, I think as I work, without thinking of work. Really all just a blur, the 1s and 0s that make up letters and numbers that make up phrases or sentences or program lines, then actual thoughts, then philosophies or dreams. I am a Venn cross section of all, each category. I cross over and between them, I am shaded light, then dark, and I slip the boundaries from day to day. Would that I could exist outside the set and be non-normal, or perhaps classified as outside the universe. Oh to be outside the universe, the population of stars or planets or people, and to look back upon the whole, see the gradation from sphere to sphere and to note where they overlap, intersect, to feel the entirety of the union. That is not to say unison, for forcibly clumped things are not in unity. They do not sing together. They do not stand on level ground together. They do not make love as equals and derive satisfaction in common. Those sets that sing the song of intersection touch and love as should those most unique of elements, no complete meaning in a single universe. |