vague

There is something deeply unsatisfying about... not having questions answered... and not being able to formulate the right questions... slipping away from hands like water... and all too soon it's all over in a way that seldom is satisfying... maybe painful, perhaps sudden and...

to compare is default and easy... to not compare is... well, there are no answers... that is this relinquishing of the questions... its like submerging the questions... and not seeking any answers... and merging into a silent flow of neuromuscular tensions and release valves... but to seek the truth within is ever more nuanced and deeply underlying under the skin... inside the skin..

well is it even the truth? or is it... well what is the truth.. even such concepts are disinteragting smell... just word convience.. and when you look deeper, the process of catting looking deeper is all that is issing.. it cannot be seen.. it cannot be glanced.. there is nothing to be glanced perhaps.. but now it is dream walking environmental pulling poetry oozing out of no where and every where garbage shit junk and nothing but trash talk verging on filter cide and nubbing the snub on the gutters in the lizard trail in montreal subway highway nigh lon bomb blast material covered in tin wrap gin tonic paste full of swab long tunic frogger wrapper comic stan multitude.