We Complicate Everything, Incarnation to Incarnation Con/Jur/d, 4/2/2024 Only recently, have we realized being misunderstood, is a group game (not a solo effort) In the glass hall, between lectures, partially blinded by the white noise of a Buffalo blizzard, fully discombobulated, by tetrahydrocannabinol and caffeine still under the illusion of literary chops, craving the liquidity of loquaciousness without the hard work and you, incarnated as Peter, were talking about the insectile buzz of distraction, standing (between, between, between) It and us, and we didn’t know, in our hormonal haziness (adulterated adulthood) we referenced The Absolute and The Relative, by the ignoble false gospel of Itness, rather than the truer false gospel of Isness, and for a moment the static cleared “It’s all chemistry” and you said, “God, I hope not,” a pithy, logical conclusion, created by rules implicit, although, now, many years latter, we’d like to clarify, that’s not what we meant, from this now above neurochemistry organic fleshiness below, while carbon to carbon bonds side to covalent side (WHAT WAS REALLY SAID) “Rebirth is endless, yet, being born doesn’t guarantee incarnation” What a poor vessel language is, unable to hold, stars, planets, people all our winged, legged, bellied, rooted, spored, materialized siblings and their motions Here, now, we hope you understand us better, without complication (WHAT WAS REALLY, REALLY SAID) Young and foolish then scintillating snow blinds us how fun to be lost!
Much love,
Con/Jur/d, 4/2/2024
Right in the feels. Perfect. 🙏