All is but a vague recollection
And a handful of assumptions
Multiple gambles and guesses
Distilled from sensory overflow

And the lingering sense of irony
That’s so intense right here-now
I can’t process it comprehensively
Staining my map’s perfection

Yet one takeaway I cherish is
This feeling of having deem-acted
A past state prepared for the event
Manoeuvred so as to be recalled

Its destination arrival coordinates
Despite changing event locality
An infinite number of times
Always determine the pathway

Of this framework of life
A torn-off fragment is mine
A safeguard from exist-change
The illusion of objective foresight

Space flies

Space flies

If time can no longer be spent
What is left to do right now
Whilst contemplating the future?

Accordingly it stops approaching
Until I’ve sorted out my life
And spent all my hard-earned money.

Turning around at this juncture
Opens more questions than it closes
The past can fend for itself.

Instead I cleanse myself of resentment
And pay hommage to its acts
Having kept me burning bridges.

From here then, I’m frozen in time
Until I’ve sorted out my life
And spent all my hard-earned space.