Posthumous Journal – 4

February 6, 2007 at 6:41 am (Ghost River)

John Hayes

January 12th 

“When the blood stiffens
When your body turns cold
Then the flowers open
And the trees spread their branches
And you
Who were their fate
Enter the sky
Where everything is white.”

                             Edmond Jabe

There is something curious about randomness. The randomness is decidedly intelligent. If you look for patterns you won’t see them, but in the non-linearity of phenomena, in its not having a pattern, something is happening.  Very mysterious, very capricious, very free.

The gap is widening . Whole parts of the world are breaking off into their own time space fields. This world is literally falling apart –town by town, city by city, state by state falling apart seamlessly into the ocean of night.

We are here and now we are gone. To live is to become invisible, to become invisible is to live.

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