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is there anything new to say?
so many versions of mind already speaking
it is unlikely there is anything original left.

mixing magic and myth - choosing it.
relationships with disembodied beings
and a few experiences not within many people mind boxes.

still - i am fed by spoons. others interpret my experience
and mostly i accept it - because then i can "know" something too.

which is more comforting than nakedly not "knowing" anything.

and the magic is more comforting than this life of decay
because maybe
something will be still there when i face death

maybe.

my mother's death hides behind the redbrick row houses that line street after street... and marble columns lie in ruins when she enters a room.

this is what she sees - her mind filling the blank spaces that her failing eyes leave wide open.

it is more comforting than not seeing anything at all.

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