Thursday, April 26, 2012

Thousand: Seven Hundred Thirty

beam of light rushing at maximum speed (nothing in the universe faster!) to somewhere else entirely. You feel shunned, scorned, rejected. Once you have an idea it’s happening. That would be your million year idea. Except how would you ever develop the social consciousness to feel shut out by the indifference of star after star, star upon star, ever more distant, ever more far, as they train their lights on those who matter more than thee? God said, I am lonely. I am going to make me a world. How did he come to know he was alone, let alone

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