there's a contemplation to the way
a train spins a hill, makes a temple
with it, centering it off-center
as its own perspective, also with
tents and towns it is easier
to imagine being there, of there,
from rails than from a highway:

wild how you can still see the periodicity of the vortex street in the second, but it's buffered by the other turbulence from throwing much momentum around

in tenant and labor unions i've often seen people seeking to leave a brief moment of self-motivated Doing for the comfort of Being Told. difficult in many ways to step out of that authority trap!

It’s nice that we can talk to each other, but the social media agency illusion has to go

I think fear and the perception of temperature are closely linked; think of the archetypal hand recoiling from the stove. I rarely fear heat, finding it relaxing to the point of mild injury; but how cold makes my stomach stiffen feels just like what we call fear.

Though a materialist, I cry out for the soul. What am I to live after, to quest for, if not becoming infinite? Shouldn’t I then fear death as the moment the soul meets its proof? And shouldn’t I seek utopia for others? Alas, utopia contains a forever, and we know there is no such type of time.

I feel like I’ve been trying forever to figure out what trust is. Half forecasting half escape, trust is like a crush in the way it happens, and in how it can be requited.