The Ides of March arrive tomorrow.
Don't be late. Nine days from now and forty-two years ago, my father died. In
eleven days, my mother would be ninety-seven. And pi was just an hour ago.
Time is permeated with the absolute
unknown and the Merrimack is still embraced by ice although in any minute water
from the Whites will free itself when everything is seen as universal,
causeless, empty, and impermanent.
But let me suffer as a person for
this moment just to tell you I love watching situation comedies like 30 Rock
and New Girl. Like napalm in the morning, they remind me of loving
deconstruction.
Science really doesn't do it for
me. "That I am" to "I am That" is all the evolutionary arc
from Big Bang to Enlightenment you need to know. The rest is there for you to
breathe. Et tu, ego?
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