The Whole is Greater...

I am prone to not making sense. Too much so for my own good, or for other people’s for that matter. Among all the matter that is cryptic, there is also matter which is not meant to be cryptic. It’s simply meant to be true, to encompass the whole. Some days I realize that it's quite a mistake these days: Truth. Still, I am stubborn. In the moments when I am formulating an answer, I am lost. Lost in some undefined blackness. Pulling and picking at the infinite grey threads that weave to and fro in said blackness. I knot them together, extricate them, whichever I find appropriate. I sit there for days unmoving, just me and the push and pull of the threads.


The whole is greater than the sum of its parts...

By the time I have the answer, you’ll be gone. And I’ll still be playing threads. I can’t seem to help it. They’re so thin and silky and numerous. They must find pores in my skin and sink in, go snaking around my head, whispering all their logic simultaneously. I can’t seem to help waiting for the answer instead of chasing it, and still keeping it tentative. I can’t seem to help hanging like a puppet from all the threads, all the voices, all of them convincing as they say, ‘follow me, and I will take you to the untangling of the universe. Follow me, and I will take you...’