Walking the river
So, I started out this morning thinking about the fact that I am a writer that no one recognizes as such; walking toward the abyss unrecognized, feeling like no one cares. And my thoughts start thinking about death, that the mind can’t exist without the body, and vice versa; so, when the body dies, so does the mind, and then I start thinking about what I said that matter and space are interchangeable, and life and death are part of the same process: two thoughts conceived as one. And that I have no idea what it means; if matter and space are interchangeable, then no place in the cosmos is devoid of both, even a black hole is not entirely black, and if life and death are part of the same process, when does it end? If it is a process, there is no beginning or end. If the process ends, so does the cosmos, and then what, nothing? That’ s how I spend my morning walking the river.