my empty head is an asset to my senses they get to savor direct sensing more than eating up your filters consuming your pretzel logic always running running down twisted tales winding winding through false memories and narratives spun to the finest yarn the most valuable silk the most comfortable cotton don't you feel it at night when you sleep does it invade you as it did me? does it challenge the run-on in your head and which is the real sin to dive in hopeful, blind , innocent never to ascend or to ascend and commit the worse mortal sin of all to deny
