Reality as it was defined is coming unglued. I am not afraid of that, exhilarated.
”You need to lose some weight and we’re going to have to conduct some more tests.”
The sensation of a stone, high-diving down into the pit of my stomach made me feel as pale as I felt I looked. I looked. I was that pale. In the waiting room, at the laboratory, I was underwhelmed by no desire for a cake. I thumbed at my phone. The barrage of social media concerns stirred no greater nor lesser sense of import. They were all links in the same chain that the ball of mortality was connected to. That ball was floating on my stomach acids like a car on lava, like a planet in space, like a person alone, living in the middle of physics. It’s hard to preside when the revolution is inside.
I see the connections and they are banal, simply there. Complication is just a series of simple things added up to overload our computations. Our computations conclude that our calculations demonstrate an incalculable number of computations to be made to either assert or confirm that our path is either,
A) Fundamentally, fatally, flawed or
B) Tectonically, technically, true
Such is the center. The summit of the universe can be claimed by holding a flag in your hand and waving it to other flag wavers. I salute you while I’m alive and type tap this text as a remnant to continue waving into my afterlife.
I await the test results. Don’t we all?