That’s a crumbling big wall of what I want to remember. A little purple plaster bit of yes. The buildings lost in time and space. Things keep rearranging. Couches fly through the air just to land on the tip of their balancing act.
I want to keep a constant pace with my constant reconstruction of my own sense of sensability, what it means to be sentient, and how I might be made of nonsense batter. I want to know how the world spins under my worm toes and I want to ache to see again with my little green eyes all the littlebig wonders of the measureless visionworld. Let’s keep humming this beat just to teach our feet to feel. Let’s keep feeling the feed just to know how to eat. To devour the world with bellylove. Let’s get hungry for life.