All things go. All things go. Paradigms cross, fade. Back to the basics. Back to who you were when you started. See. It’s easy. Stack, build, knock down. Rebuild. Each time better, better. Best.
The wind nearly knocked you off your feet. Erase and begin again. Forward motion. Always moving. Never stop. Reevaluate. Remembering. That was it, it was so close. Throwing it away. It felt so fragile to touch. Hearing it, folding it. Somehow, the theme was still legible. Legitimately. Thematically. Sitting there, staring at it. Voyeuristic. Seeing it happen. Reading the same page. Backwards. It felt more inclined (this time) to keep turning. Thesaurus. It all means something different. And then all of the sudden, you realized. It’s the same.
All things go. The sun felt good, the wind chapped your bare skin. Wake up, breathe. That beauty. That one.
When you stare at something for an indefinite amount of time, it changes shape. It is the very beauty of creativity. Create. Seeking to be so different, it is all the same. Higher and higher. Simplicity. Keep your soul in the air, keep your feet in the soil.
Impermanence; perspective; hope. It is all we have. All things go.