Going to shift the script now because I wanna touch her and they forced me to learn that want and need are not each other and "happens" even less so now the Little Lost Boy watches impassive from an wayrd-angle perch and questions, what use alethetic modeling when the goal was concealment?
Call it NOT. Concepts are oppression by "is", "no right" "the world" and at 11:40 late for the bus and I'm the first to admit to horrifically no one I AM HUNGRY and spurting come across the veils and layers of her while she is gravity unmoved like before like later but I have an "is" to make and ever what is raw-chanced into Being is there some way I can get into it?
Look at my mind while she is smiling and call me back to training I am not a piston rod i CAN MAKE a piston rod but again the come on the belly on the sheets in her hair in my own mouth shows the detached observer that goals of the flesh are well, let's just call it flexibility for now and file it away for more detailed analysis after we're finally all dead together. Now I render myself into easily processed sections, now I contain myself in clearly labelled shapes, now I go about the work of others.
"we must make excuses for our horrifically inaccurate linguistics...
...by saying that it is a beautiful thing about the world"
now mature into the abject failure of our interface with it tug lustfully on our 'need' for absolutes, that there IS an absolute undistorted reality, dripping and waking wet in response to our caress
the mirror sees his root chakra stuffed all full of toxic cruft and half-terminated correspondences, collage of all of their faces in the shapes they'd never make all of their bodies in the shapes they'd never take. he hangs his hat and starts the day's work.
I cover this up while you look over here, now revealing that while i cover where you were looking you turn to see a new mystery which distracts you from me shuffling the first thing back under the second thing's cover forever and ever and ever and ever veils upon veils beneath veils upon veils