The things we try to grasp are fleeting. We see them as they fly by and chase them down the rabbit hole, never stopping for tea. We stay eyes opened waiting for one to pass by in the periphery, barely visible.
The things we try to catch are like the eye of the stepper to the roaming flanker, to notice without being noticed. To catch them without their knowledge of our presence, for their knowledge of our presence would fundamentally change their nature.
The things we try to catch unhappen, don’t happen, don’t exist – until they do.
The things we try to catch have been buried under years of repetitive action – look away, look away look away. The things we try to catch do not understand the language of being seen.
The things we try to catch float somewhere between the known and the felt. Somewhere between the image and the abstract. Somewhere between what is apparent and what we shall never known.
The things we try to catch are like time crystals, in constant oscillation around ourselves yet not powered by us.
The things we try to catch will never fully be within our grasp.
Still, we chase the things we try to catch, for all we know is how to try.
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