It’s not as if there are things that have captured the essence of living outside the boundaries of an existence that was imagined for you, but without any form of consultation. It would naturally lead to a situation where you felt, not trapped, but unable to explore. In having an imagination given to you there has been little time that you have spent inside your own imagination.

Many words to say that you should probably have thought of this a lot earlier.

But you didn’t and you’re beginning to realize that that’s okay too. That you will get to things in your own time, at your own pace. That the race makes it seem like the only thing that matters is the finish line. That the race ignores everything but a certain form of progress. That “eye on the prize” often means ignoring a lot of the journey, involves a lot of undwelling and unimagining. This is information that we had gathered but not given out for reasons best known to the leaders of the pride.

Even if she has

raised the bar

they still reach the booze

and grab a few drinks

when she’s not looking.

It’s pretty straightforward then, at the end of the day. The multiple intergers that have to be weighed against the variables that are pegged on the current space between your mind and infinite wisdom can be reduced to a simple derivative of now intersparsed with instances of persons within a certain context outside themselves. This is not something that has baffled anyone. If anything, this is one of the things that most people agree upon but, in agreeing on it they imagine that the answer that has then been arrived at must be universal. That somehow it need to be that for everyone x is equal to three baboons, a banana and a slap in the face. What they don’t realize is that for many people x will be the suns rays bursting through crack in the ceiling. For others x will be a trail of sugar ants stealing from the remains of last nights dinner.

That x, by virtue of being a variable, will vary.

17 times 7

can only be a problem

if the 7 have been thinking


“every tree has a hidden root”

– Saul Williams

But you already set your eyes on searching for the square root of zero. The question was written once on the reverse side of the blackboard of class. Because it was on the wrong side they didn’t know how to rub it and, even though you did, the question entertained you – so you never told them now. Slowly you have begun to realize that they also knew how to erase the words but they saw that they fascinated you – so they left them there for you to read. They left the question there so you could try and find an answer. You still remember the riddle. “I am known by the bumps, no one has seen me.”

So you’ve gone around chasing the bumps. Trying to understand the bumps. Bumps, to you, add to the equation. There are ripples in a pond. They are trying to control the bumps but you want the children on the shore to stop throwing stones. Already the number of rocks in the pond have displaced so much water that there is thought of renaming it a puddle.

At lunch time

everyone is expected

to gather under the

old tree.

Don’t be late.

This has led to you managing the effects of bumps. This has led to you fighting the disease. But every day you sit in a corner, and keep thinking “wouldn’t it be so much better if we weren’t sick?”

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