Desire
appears to be in the free market,
well,
as the free market,
and
yet, we are caught in the crossfire
between
mental depiction
and
the test drives of experience.
Figure
it this way,
we
all live in event prisons,
waiting
momentrily for an eventful death
that
never comes.
Yet
small deaths by frame-breaks,
acts
of omission,
overwhelms
of distraction,
and
intentional priorities happen constantly.
Desire
itself needs to know first hand
that
there are no strangers
in
the ambience of life,
for
we, the humans of occupancy,
are
a book of questions
as
much as a bouquet of moods,
bound
by the form of our alibis.
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