Where should we put our money, eh?
We can put it on heads, and charge forward into the bright light.
We can put it on tails, and let the wind take us where it wants, which will probably be somewhere that (to its credit) doesn’t know us yet.
Or we can stop it in mid-air and keep our money in our pockets. We can get away before anybody notices, I think, and won’t there always be another coin to flip?
I never really decided whether this bird is an eagle, or a vulture. Either way, its contempt for the crown is absolute.
We fight different demons
We carry the light differently
Different tools in our belts
I am not here to serve any agenda at all, under the eye of anything. I am here as a creature of play, as purpose crafting itself in the current.
What’s this on the horizon? The ships of humans have that specifically human smell, whether they be tankers or cruise liners or cargo.
Whatever you are, you have no smell but rust and oil. Absence set your course. There is a groaning and a sort of alien purpose, but no soul to speak of.
Matter invokes form —
Quiet now! The monolith
Is about to speak!
Hey, you, doing that thing you are doing! Do you remember a moment ago, when you were doing a different thing? Pausing briefly for a breath, perhaps, or walking through an already-open door?