… so into time I have faded, forgotten oblivion and death drifting aloft in a boat of nothing else about, sailing in tides of rip tide devouring hours from minutes of existence, consuming the seconds of time and clocks, not point to tell time from where i stand, clocks cant be made from this black sun that burns on top of my sky, black to darkness, with only sparks of me, into projections of I into others, those are the stars that shine on this fabric of celling… sparks of me into others, drifter I have became transformed from something, something I can no longer recall, there is not total-recall ever for me, no memory of anything, all is mixed and spilled now, broken flasks where all of what was real, and became memories was stored, now… in this time, a time of jumps where and when and what it was recalled is from this point on merged with imagination, subconscious insanity and creativity… I am dizzy in reality, on quicksand my fee lay and taking walks on a sea of quicksand is this living I do, and I do live, just in a desert of concrete time!


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