You have to sit down and ask yourself: "How?"

No. No questions. Something happens, and something else happens, and above all else, whatever is in your control is dwarfed by what isn't.

Then, forward. (Then, sideways.)

Moments spring up, and is this real, is this scripted, do I exist?

No. No questions.

On a highway I've driven over so many times; as I pull on, pitch black, and as I pull off, warmth. Let the light wash over our faces, let the water wash over our bodies, for we are prepared.

There is no longer an uncomfortable fusion: past is present is future, everything simply folds back onto itself.
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