autotelic, autistic, assonance-hole©.

Memo: Karmic Ripples

Song of Meaning of The Moment:

Gianni Blu, “Where did you go?”

Then the angels sang the saddest tune, of potential unmet and promise unknown, and in their melancholy verses, so different and paradoxically, all the same, “What is there, in that empty space unknown, where you return to where once you left to become the one known as ‘you’?”

There is no answer. There never was. This is the true curse of humanity; no matter how well you reason, how long you cast those lovingly, recurrent and so hopefully replicable glances, the very numbers rebuke you with infinity… that you ever hoped to know, thought yourself large enough to compete with infinity itself.

Do we not have all the tales, cautionary? Did not Arachne serve and yet serve us in the least, that well?

Or Lilith? Or Nike? Or Psyche? Or you? Or me? Or anyone?

In the empty spaces of this linked item, my grief found me and together, we place this wreath upon the last one… to wither and fade as well, even if as slowly.

“Once upon a time, there was a family… and then, there wasn’t.”

All things pass. Now you have, too… I will always miss the part of me that should have been secure with you.

15:39 PDT, USA