November 10, 2016
It's a small step, a gentle gesture, tiny movement. Trivial. It moves toward. It moves away. In the center of motion, if you keep yourself clear, draw yourself up from the answers, you will see the contradiction that's not a contradiction. Time and time again, I've asserted this, but very few listen; very few take heed. It's either one or the other, toward or away. Both. You gotta be crazy, they say. Nuts, they retort; they, who see only logic. It is this blindness that pervades while the winter descends, while the clouds thicken, while the still air becomes foul.