the incomprehensible exists
as thoroughly encompassing.
we are of the continuous one sound
that exceeds audibility.
we are the enormity
that overrides any sense of escape
from that which mirrors itself
to appear to be made of self-comprehension
and yet
does not either discuss, dialogue or display.
the universe has no usage
for space as considerations
while it fully meets
all of the considerations of time
but disregards each and every aspect of it.
for time is only a poser
as an it of the all
and void is beyond the convention of that all.
void has sensory
that does not exist as audience.
any sense we have of void as an it
can only lead to the release of self
as revelation.
our sense of vast
is an insularity point of view.
every thought of it is fractured
then piece-meal stolen.
confluence with it
is the essential suicide of self.
our rendering is but to live in a world
of idolized crumbs
yet we live in the marvel
of perceptions’ shortcomings.
this, as the now, has more dimensions
then we have the novelty of perceptions.
constancy had an enormity of life
before it was subjugated
into being just a definitive word.
we are the bystander-shadows
of our own short term existence.
our experience is a transduction,
broken down
into the diversity of many small parts.
we are of the cursory preoccupation
of superficial surface assessment.
we are the formalisms
of fragmentary congealing
as an array of depictionals,
a waywardness spent of meaningfuls.
our blessedness is insipidly preoccupational,
as self-referential
but eventually mortifying.
the void has no comebacks or retorts to this.
our adventuring is an adverse method
with the excess baggage of thought,
provoked as essentially involved.
yet essential consciousness
is not illustrative in nature.
the universe out there,
is the void-joke to us . . .
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