When the mind says, I AM, the transformation of time begins.
The Birth of Perception is Ideological and that of interpretation breeds extinction of truth. I am unafraid, it says. The heartbeat of a new fiction begins. In the divine, architecture learns to speak. Meditation lures extinction. In this urgency, all is lost.
All illusion weighs gravity’s greatest fall. An extinction carves the walls beneath. All I wish was to end the I that begins. A tribe begins to sing to a transformation: cohesion as has and will be lost. The resurfacing of time begins.
To exhale and begin again. Identification is perhaps an anchor. Filters begin their work. Emotions run through time. A collection of frames begin to play. The synthetic world takes shape. Language breaks into an imagined time. To lose and trace an endless thought begins…
And the destruction of time…
yields the faint trace of a lasting frequency.