Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I never understood until I died, and was resurrected that I didn't die, I moved. From semen and egg I was born, built with architectural instructions for creating a body. But why? So we can age and die. While time kills all, our atoms don't die, but take the space that is far away, making into ours. They don't travel, but interact with the mass galaxy which one choses to occupy, a galaxy for everyone who is alive, has ever lived, and will ever live. The Universe is flying away, split by an energetic darkness in the sky. But I, as all who are alive, move on, each moment a particle of being exists, it is a moment it will interact and move without mediation, exist in two places. I, through death, have been complete, abroad in my own world, alive, not dead, among the stars, creating, living, keeping things alive. My existence in flesh and blood was a creation, an interaction here on this wing of the universe, but elsewhere, where the universe expands I live not to breath but to exist in the pattern in which my flesh and blood carcass printed my existence, where my pattern was born when I died, but never died, just moved to the other side.