Space
does not actually exist.
It
is all sound as sound is revealed
by
the byproduct of listening.
We
are privy to a small selection of sound
as
listeners.
We
are sound
but
at the blunt end of observing that.
Even
in our sensory range,
we
have an extremely limited
auditory
pronouncement available.
The
essential principle of sound is not to be heard
but
it is integral as structure,
fluid
structure to any thing that will manifest
as
mass by our version of representation.
Sound
of sufficient density and frequency
can
sponsor fields that represent to us as mass.
We
are visited by them as form into substance
and
sensory presence to our version of life.
We
actually pride ourselves
as
form postulates of importance,
well,
self-importance.
But
auditory is the white cane we have
to
pronounce our existence.
The
integrity of these sounds,
we
have not come to understand.
We
live by their rules
and
yet have found them yet unapproachable
to
truly understand
as
if understanding would place us
at
cause or source.
In
the way we claim space and further reference it,
we confound the illusion
and
thrive on the isolation we have succumb.
Our
truth is only a metaphor of living.
We
are bent on being isolationists.
We
are the prison of our own making
and
basically none the wiser in our displays.
We
accept the shackles of time,
language
and cognitive thought.
We
are all so far, mostly unreadable code.
We
have yet to figure
how
to take off the spacious robes of our choir
and
sing the universe alive . . .
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