In between, it grows. A moment slows and then swells with consciousness. The seat-filler of worry or anxiety, or something pacing, or a memory jumping from an alley asking for change, or whatever else, similarly rippling unnaturally alive, all goes to show: let a fruit begin to rot anywhere (absolutely anywhere) and somehow the flies always find it. We maintain ourselves with action but decay through passivity. Can you hear your self-consciousness buzzing?
Shooting straight from the hip to a to-do list, the trajectory shook free. I turned to a hamster wheel, somehow making momentary escapes by it - but, oh, what I could do with a little bit of forward silence! Alas, it’s never the big thoughts deigning to micromanage us! Whoever has a good view grows reflective, giving all that is short-sighted (which, also, is naturally overzealous) the chance to take the initiative and cut us down to size.
In a teetering age, I preen myself amongst the bluffs. The photos I take are meant (and this is their only intention!) to show the steepness of the impossible descent. Why? Because we must take beautiful self-defense classes! Discovering a transcendent outlook is no longer enough, we must learn to wield it too!