Desire is the memory of desire. Before — one would have thought they would die as the desire is leached out — but we never die — not till we die — I fade into the machine — I am hungry — or long to hear music — let the sickness pass — let the fever reign — old loves — I am delayed — caught waiting on the deck of the Titanic —
We are all children of the universe, made from the same starstuff, emerging from the same singularity, carrying within us the fundamental rules of chemistry and physics (one the subset of the other); we are organized water carriers, flitting around with rudimentary programming which emerged organically though the process of wind blowing across the sand and forming castles –
two million years later we sit here in our sand castle wiling away the hours wailing at the lookingglass, in mad love with our contingent flesh — the magic of our coming is real but contingent — we are surrounded by magic — the world, grass poking up from the earth — magic — a tree grows out of my belly, when the privileged observer looks at it sideways —
let go of the contingent, and hold the absolute, and do no violence to each other —
The influence of gaslight or electric light on the growth of paraheliotropic trees 