1+1=3

One, being one; add another one - this addition creates the coexistence of these ones, so there is one and one and two - one one and another one, and the two, two which cannot exist without each one; for, without one, two is but one.

Absolutely, everything is one is everything.

When any thing is regarded, it is regarded relatively - within any relativity exists the potential for an infinite level of complexity; any context requires infinity to bridge - one thing is merely one thing, regardless of the number of its coordinates; two things are, regardless of their context, require.

Regarding living regarded relatively, there is compromise and there is forsaking - compromise between two, or forsake one for the other. We tend to see these things as relative, when they are, truly, absolute; either a thing is, or it is not; relativity spawns infinite layers of complexity- like fractals, two from every one.


To be and to behold are inverses.
One and one make three.
Reciprocity, yin and yang.

One cannot exist without the other. One exists.

You know that guy?

The one with the red shirt.

"How are you?"

I don't know... I just am - this is all that I remember with any organ the object of which's senses is describable by words. I am the other side which has seen nothing - it peers into this body's awareness as into a lens; my entire life's account in one moment of light transmitted through that greater dimension.

What is great?

What is small?

There's only some, and there's only all.

And then that one who's both

and nothing.



It is so, with a wistful sidelong gaze,
that that me and I part ways.

What holds the future, now,
now that time has shown me space?

Random. Thoughts.

I reigned in my fantasies so far as to have smothered even my hopes. I've got to be a boy again; I've got to be present in my own moment.

It fails to register that other people's lives continue in my absence.

My judgment shall be my point of view - it is the idol that I have in doubt erected separate from the truth, to verify the truth of the truth. "Original sin," "knowledge of good and evil" - I am Thomas's dubious fingers. Easier to thread a camel through the eye of a needle... I've convinced myself that this is balanced - it was easy, because it makes sense as I see it; the only contest offered is that of the appallingly apparently convoluted, mutated standard hailed as "normalcy." Of course, from within its bounds, it's something different.

So, I was going into my martyr mindset over the trifling struggle I encountered while digging for my phone charger; then, I realized that, immediately before that, I had been planning on firing up some porn... My capacity for rapidly changing, agile, precisely detailed delusions astounds me - I created and sustain what I call "reality."

A statement with balanced potential to convey a thing profound or one mundane, "me, too."

I don't allow myself to acknowledge my weakness. Whether or not that's true, it's a reassuring thing to say. The Earth is my Kryptonite. This author is Clark Kent.

If you're looking for "normal," consider this heading a disclaimer. [CL]

amidst this blur
of sincerity and jest,
resultant of strangers
each doing their best
to compress the pertinent
details and such
- might I amount
to much?
to very much?


I rarely compose poetry. I rarely write. I should write more; I'm gifted in the art, and I enjoy little else more. I backspaced over the beginning of this sentence because it began with "What am I to say," and that seemed too cliche a question to allow myself to ask here. What medium is there that could convey any significant portion of what I am? Face it, self, there is yet to exist a language which will "sufficiently convey" what I am, as I don't run out of me to convey - so I'll plan to stop some time soon rather than ramble on indefinitely.

I am aware of a fountain of love inside of me, one that I share equally with everything and every thing. I am not looking here solely for someone with whom to be "in love;" I seek beautiful people I might befriend. You are welcome to whatever you garner from your interaction with me; I promise only this: I am honest, sincere, and forthright, and will remain so; I may be the most open person you've ever met.


Would you answer "yes" to any of the following questions?
Are you lonely in a manner that neither sex nor friendship comfort?
Do you detest the linear and pre-determined nature of "relationships" of whatever sort?
Do you seek interaction outside of the confinement of propriety and normalcy?
Do you feel as if you are too vast to be encompassed by the understanding of another?

Would you believe that I am usually perceived as a "normal" guy? I don't even endeavor to camouflage myself. What is this place?

Sometimes,

I'm just sorry that it's all already done.

For now, I know that this is the only way it all gets done.

Each moment must be experienced.

Every moment must be experienced.

I am doing my part, being my part.

Before the end, I will have been all.

I will be all.

To do so properly

is to forget that there is a proper way to do so, to forget that I am doing so. In forgetting, I become what I knew at conception, prior to my first thought. Knowledge gathered since - the substance of my cage, now my vestibule; the building of my prison, now my vessel; the awareness of my self as being separate from my awareness - my relinquishing being in order to possess.

So, one foot always descending, having already descended and in front of the other, upon a curb that does not exist, within the only moment I've ever known, led me to forget it all and to once again become it. I came here to describe what I am able to remember of it upon returning, upon becoming something - and, hence, becoming this something else. I'll continue to dive in and to return with the account I am able to convey, what description of eternity will fit through these finite mediums, language and my self - in this the vessel, the vestibule that is what you know me to be.