Things come in threes

avoidance harks attention
critically focused details
weakness self evident
stoop to crawl
need not want
sense of change
modify the plan
goals anchor bearings

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We are change of life

imagine life as a cosmic stew of which feeling speaks the only truth. all this talk, all this rationally is nothing without sensory interpretation. the “true” language of being is feeling. if life is but a chemical reaction, how can sensory interpretation be deemed unfit as rational? surely we can quantify precepts, but means cannot encompass the odds and ends. i trudge through a goop traversed by many others, with no more knowledge or understanding than those of “formal” training. we’ve created specific words, although none can contain me. how can we be expected to use a language to speak standards, when we are anything but sameness? We are constantly changing, and will forever be changing, as long as life exists. life is a change otherwise it would be death.

How should this run be ran?

change has hit me –
again and again –
it’s what it does,
but i resist.
sameness permeates my life.
others see change, where
i see staticity.
i run upon this treadmill,
each step no closer than the last.
adjust the settings, yet
i remain immobile.
shall i modify my run according
to the settings,
or,
should I take a step back
and watch the machine run?