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The Circle?

What happens if I do this?
















What emotions does the void betray?

Are you dazed and confused? Does the superficially uncommunicative blackness feel cruel, impenetrable? Has a strange sensation risen from the depths of your subconscious, and flickered in your neural pathways for the briefest of moments, upon some empty notion of clarity, just to wash over you like warm milk, and dissipate in the blink of an eye? Can you see everything that will ever be written hidden just beneath the surface? Are there words waiting to be unveiled, like a sculpture emerging from stone? Are they hidden in another dimension? Are they meant to be broken? Are we a shattered reflection of what life should be? Do you hold a mirror up to nature? Can you see the virtue of modesty? Do you think the nothingness a mindless error, an editorial glitch? Do you desire an explanation? Or has the moment already elapsed from your thoughts? Are you bored? Do you spin on your chair? Do you stare at the ceiling, the edge of your world? Are you devoted? Are you diverted? Are you disconcerted? Are you? As it really is? Why does light travel so slowly?  Why does observing change the nature of reality? Do I exist when you don’t see me? Do I know the elusive illusion? Are you lost in the shadows, perplexed by the space, by all the uncertainties? Do you bite your nails in anticipation, waiting for the next dislocating sound? Did you ponder: is there a purpose? Did you think: this is mad? Did you even ruminate at all as you longed for the next distraction, scrolling down, down, or turning the page (delete as applicable) as quickly as possible away from the blinding white light, refracting a fragment of lost memory, a moment of infinite nothing? Do we gaze through the looking glass in wonder, never able to divide and sew the threads of reality together? Do you long to return? Are we inverted? Are we perverted? Are we capable of knowing? What is neewteb? Can you see? Can you see? Can you see? What constellations of thoughts amassed in your mind? Is it like going home? Is it like meeting an old friend? Is it in the silence, in the nothing, that true purpose is recognised? Is it in obscurity where true meaning resides?  Is it divine? Is it pointless and meaningless after all? Does time-reversal symmetry abolish the impression of time? Would an explosion conceive if both sides slipped through and caressed the faintest whisper of the other? Are the membranes closing in, ready to collide again and again and again, in twenty-billion-year cycles? Are you a symbol? Concentrated?  Did a spiral open up in the darkness of the light and suck you through its event horizon? How do we react with this H2O? Do we scribe in invisible ink? What versions of vertiginous visions did you invent? Do you have an esemplastic mind? Do you respond instantaneously? Did you perceive patterns in the void? Did you see negative stars and start joining the dots? What magical qualities does reflection behold? Is it talismanic? Is it concentric? Is your soul being stolen as you stare at the script? Is your head being blurred with the dirt? Are we all missing? Are we anti-matter? Are we ascending? What happens if you lose yourself in the blankness, the blackness, the brightness? What if time pauses for centuries every moment? Is it mental disorder? Is it psychological distress? Is there something else glaring just out of view?  What is this fabric I am interlaced into? Can I feel it? Do I sense it every moment of every day without knowing? Are my senses identifying and coalescing with it, merging me ever more deeply into its fibres? Can I feel a supernova explode ten-million light years away? Can we ride the light back to the nothing? Why didn’t the eye reinvent itself on this terrain? What is slowly revealing itself to you? What is clawing its way out of the silence? Is there a truth staring you in the face? Are there unbounded opportunities? Is there limitless power? Or is there nothing at all, nothing at all, nothing at all? Are we all slipping, sliding, fading into oblivion unable to press pause and linger on the bliss of pure existence? What is space an alternative?  What’s in there? What would a void in consciousness betray? Are we splitting aside from the absolute essence of knowing? Are we falling or flying? Why can’t everything just stop? ______________? Why don’t we try some alchemy and hang bat-like in the dark forever? Can we be sliced and baked into a better form fit for human consumption? Is it the absence of mind? Is it the absence of people? Is it the gap inside an empty room, hall, or auditorium? Does it have meaning? Is it something indeterminate? Could it be a fabric interwoven with time as Einstein explained? Is it something? Is it nothing? Is it tangible? Malleable? Changeable? Can it flow drawkcab?  Can we exist in a nitrogen-rich alien atmosphere? Can we glimpse beyond the curtain and behold true form? Can we be dellennahc to hear the expressionless? Do avatars exist in perpetual stasis in the realm of the seam? Are there opposite ends to the spectrum? What colour are they? Is there a rainbow in-between exposing a chemical barcode? In the land of the blind, is the third eye key? In the lines, in the codes, in the darkness? Is a photograph a ghost preserved in light? Did da Vinci know colour? Why did the seed sail through the mirror and ripple out and out and out and? Where is the silver tear? Where do the living waters spring? What is my position in the ether? Was Mozart autistic?  Do we exist in some twisted version of space, veiled between the infinitely minuscule and unimaginably massive? What happens if you begin at the end, by existing in contrast to the larutan wolf? Can you see a garden burst into life? Who is the medium?  Who holds it? Am I here?  Or somewhere just before your eyes? Somewhere only I know it is possible to epacse? Do I know what I think? Do I block it all out? Do I repress it? Where is my mind? Where is my soul? Is the hedge at the bottom of the garden the Dharma-Body?  Is time an noisulli?  Is nature real? Are the blank scrolls true scripture? Do the hands squeeze me down to infinity? How do you perceive a second? Can you imagine planck time? Do you want to break free from these chains? From these cells? From this form? Can you comprehend a reality that small? How did the bang swell into this evolving mess for survival, extinction? How many divisions of time are there? What splits the plank length? Could reality be nothing more than a seamless run of photographs, an endless and magnificent flick-book, travelling forward forever, feeling no pain for the images captured and caged, like shadows on closed pages, one with the further, never to be found again? What fibres are being spun and pressed to create the leaves you rise from? Can you push through the portal? Can you push through the mirror? Can you see fingers pushing against the wall from the other side, compressing the paper, coming through to pierce you? Do we exist in the pauses, in the lost and forgotten spaces, carving out useless and desperate meaning unrealised in everlasting limbo, somewhere between the true pictures of the non-physical plane? Are we standing on the precipice of our imagination? Are we ten-million years old? Are we still living in Plato’s cave? How do we observe the unknown? How do we frame our lives? What are the codes? What are the rules? Would we know if time rewound? What is déjà vu? What is the middle? What is going on at the mutnauq level? What is hidden inside the silence? Can I hear you? Can I refresh my cinotalp being? Will we all be called? Do the openings interwoven on this page make you question the room, the gap, the emptiness? Does it make you wonder where you are in relation to the fibres of the wolf? Can you pull answers from the Akashic records? Are we not constantly moving even when we are perfectly still?  Does your breath fly away from you at 465 meters a second?  Is true vision knowing darkness is light?  How does your core react? Is there a heat emanating from the fission of emptiness and the senses that blind us so sincerely?  Do we live within a lanoitisnart period? Do we live in a sphere suspended in another time, suspended in another time, in another sphere, in another time, in another sphere, in another time, in another, another, nother, noth…? Will we dance with celestial bodies? Will we rise out of ignorance moth-like, and at the moment of our ascent, catapult headfirst into the flame of destruction? Will I wake up in 1666 and all this was some kind of strange delirium? Will I travel along the sinewy filaments of existence and become one with the stellar nursery hidden deep in the spiralling dust clouds, out and out and out, far beyond knowing, in the heart of the pillars of creation? Where is the sucof? Did you contemplate for a moment? Or was it several centuries? Is black the colour of nihilism? Is it only through the absence of light that vision can rise in the wake of the unknown? Do you see the night’s sky without stars? Do you stare at the shadows hoping secrets will surface? Do you stare into space as if that will illuminate? Would you prefer it if there were gaps etched into this shell?  Do the gaps create words? Create worlds? Create consequence? Is all we perceive a figment of lost time, caught in a web, spun into the fabric, designed by gravity the ultimate chaotic perversion? Who? What? Where? Are sluganir menovtems timaronsfrng pecies of etenelms whitin athoner densimion of         ,              /   ,              ,              ,                             .            â€¦                       .                             /                  ,                                 /
               /                                              …       ….       .    ….         …                                         /
                                                                               ‘             
  …          /                          ,          ,                    .                  snesrantges, tintwisg and trinung, lintfig and tinrowhg, dpeeer itno epontry and bnag?  When? Why? How? Is everything darkened, tinged, refracted by the essence of individual nature? Is emptiness true form? Is there a fantastic freedom, lying unattainable to the living, in the absolute mystery of the void? Can we turn on physics, the psychic, material, spiritual? Are we flittering between two infinite darkness’s? Are we conscious yet? How do you picture space? How do you imagine the emptiness? Is it the moment that passes right now, right now, right now….? Is separateness an illusion? Is it possible to hold flit round the nucleus? What happened before you fell?  Does gravity affect the rhythm of life? Does pleasure affect that powerful pulse? Is space the moment before the forces tugged on this dust, our ashes, before eruption unleashed fire and brimstone and caused all matter to burst into existence? Is this it? What about spatial relationships? What about the philosopher? Have we become so entangled we crush the concept of space?















In a frame? In a frame? In a frame? In a frame?  In a frame?   What happens if I litter the space with superfluous pauses? Does something other make itself known? Do we exist on another level? Do you still see the marks? Do you still see your form? Do we absorb all meanings, all possibilities, all essences, simultaneously, without even knowing? What else perceives it? Is there something dark hidden inside us? Do we only use ten percent of our brains? Is all knowledge already out there waiting to be tapped into? What does it feel like to be mad? What did it feel like to be Mozart? What does it feel like to pluck beauty from the strings of existence as they pass by in sweet waves of silence vibrating with the electrons, flickering in and out space-time, attached to the wind, waiting for a mind capable of true seeing? Do you believe? Do you flick absent mindedly through the pages? Where is the centre? Are all possibilities right there just before our eyes? Are there seven more dimensions hidden in the strings, in the fibres that exist all around us, each one twisting reality up into levels upon levels of complexity something we will never be able to witness? Did evolution take away pure awareness on entwined Earth? Am I coming through in waves now? Am I falling through you? Always circling on to infinity? Are we all knitted together? Will I escape my body? Can I remember what it’s like to be in the womb? What does it feel like to be hypnotised? Could you give yourself away so completely? Why are there gaps in my memory? What is being eroded? A minute, an hour, infinity? What is (be)y(on)d (this) (st)r(a)n(ge) p(unc)t(u)a(t)ion?  Can a reflection reveal it to you? Will you see an atom larger than the Sun, or a Universe smaller than an atom? Will you ever see the Universes that construct you? Will we all burn? Does the other ninety percent exist in some other realm? Are their alternate consciousness’s within, which experience some other plane of existence? Are we wired into the other? Do you speak in everlasting silence?  Can you see beyond these words? Can we outweigh idle thoughts with eloquent ones? Is there a spirit of awareness inside every animal which looks out silently and mute down upon the folly of man guarded solely by pure instinct? Do they carry these spirits forward to the end or the beginning? Is it possible to be truly at peace with oneself? Is the scientist an artist? Do we know anything the way we should? Where is the self under the selfness? How much more light do I need to see in plain form? Are we living in the perpetual pursuit of shadows? Are we like characters in video games that freeze, then continue propelling forward into annihilation, seamlessly, as if nothing at all occurred? Are we an interference pattern? Are we collapsing to behold? Are we imploding? Are we falling into the Sun? Are we the fiery hearts of long-gone stars? Do you really want to know? Does space hold memory like the beautiful symmetry of the double helix? Does the hand belong to another species? Does the umbrella cause a vacuum? Does space require the darkness? How can I know anything trapped inside this warped, distorted, and entirely subjective experience of reality and reason? Do you believe in the Big Bang?  Do you feel the summons of the void? Is it a vile temptation, beckoning you to become one with it, deep in the darkness of the abyss?  Can you tell me what’s going on?  Why do waves turn into particles when they know the eye is upon them? Why do words hold a significance of their own?  Why are we in all circumstances broken and removed from the enigma? Why do I have to exist now? Why don’t I fall through the Earth and get crushed in the centre? Can we synthesise photosynthesis? Can we transcend our boundaries? Can we lose the use of one senses? Can we translate peace into words? Can you hear a pattern in the silence? Can I bear a message to a billion years from now? Can we pool our collective brain-power? Is it possible to know too much? Is it possible to meditate in such a way that you transform the frequency of your molecules to induce a state that allows you to walk on water? Is it possible to be awake at all times? Why do owls fly? Why are we born lost into a mystery? Why do roots bind with me and follow in earnest, unperturbed unto my descent, yet fill me with enduringly damned faith? Why do some spaces hold tension? How many worlds are held captive by stars?  How much DNA do we share with the potato? Is chaos the ultimate order? Is everything happening simultaneously? Is the end of space the beginning of time? Do we perceive obscurity because we are trapped inside an artificial bubble sparked by the apparition of light? Do we live in a division, a reduced perception? Do you absorb all influences? Can a break in light increase intensity? Can a canopy create a new genesis? Can a deaf man truly hear? Can a moth’s wing leave an imprint on space as it momentarily flutters through? How long will the echoes of long since shattered stars haunt us? Can you imagine nothing? Can you vibrate at just the right velocity? Can you know the shape of space and time? Can you shake me? Can you pierce me? Can your ancestors see through your eyes?  Can we develop a better way of perceiving? Are we the fallen? Are we on the eternal hunt for new forms? Is the sky your story book? Are the tips of mountains Heaven’s gate? Why am I drawn to the forest? Why don’t we go beyond nature? Can I invoke an ancient mind-set? Can I feel their sap moving within me waiting for the moment to seep out and encase essence in amber? Do your wonderings create intenser and intenser meaning? Is there a parallel reality? Does a blind man truly see? Does space decay? How deep does the rabbit hole go? How do we get out of the frames, the boxes, the squashing parameters we find ourselves bound to? Are invisible forces coiled inside the dark code of the light, ready to spring forth out of inaction, into the valley of nevermore, stamped into obliteration, beneath your feet? Are the secrets of the future hidden deep in the forgotten moments of the past? Do we witness a tunnel because we are ascending faster than light? What happens if you keep changing the scale? What is the power of three? What is the concept of time? What was the clockwork-like pendulum which spurred into motion the bloodline of the planets? Does silence age? Can space bend? Are we preparing for an alternate existence? Is time a gift or a curse? Is space the unfillable hole we leave when we depart? Do we travel in a line, do we spin in a circle, do we fall in a spiral? What happens if gravity stopped for only one moment? Would we fly off the earth, would the earth fly away from the Sun, would the Sun fly away from the black hole at the centre of the Galaxy, would we dissolve into entropy at the opening of the iris? Would it make a difference? Would it be better if meaning existed in the nothingness, in the emptiness, in the truth? Is there order in chaos? Is there chemical disorder? Is Isis unveiled? Is nature written in perfectly imperfect mathematical poetry? Is our fatal flaw thinking it is possible to understand? Can anything ever be proved? Can a power place transform consciousness? Where can I leave a message for longevity? Is there a profound knowledge waiting to be uncovered? Did the ancient Egyptians know cloning would be possible in the future? Did we know better before words detpurroc our thoughts? Why is it the further I go the less I know? How substantial is the space between symbols and significance? Am I moving away from a pure state into something else, something other, something darker?  Are we all heretics? Are we all alone? Are we still missing? Do we sense less than we used to? Do the laws of physics change across the multiverse? How does lost effervescence find wisdom? How does the mind cope? How many senses of truth are out there?  Do they know themselves in your image? Is time another word for destruction? Can we transcend its boundaries? Are we the space? Are we the time? Will I ever catch a glimpse of the true principle of nature? Will everything eventually be understood as an equation? Are we slowly tumbling snowballs? Is it all a question of faith? Is it all it ever was and ever will be? Is love a gravitational embrace? Is this nothing but a reflection? Are we bouncing to and fro, from mirror to mirror, from imagination to fruition, forever? Have you ever felt the pull? Can you find a way through? Would you prefer the answers to these questions? Or is it better to wonder, to imagine, to live? Why don’t you read this script at midnight by candlelight? Whose faces appear in the flickering shadow of the light? Are we all going home? Are we awake so the Cosmos can know itself? What happens if I do this? What emotions does the void betray? Are you dazed and confused….?

The Circle?: Text
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