All my romantic encounters build me as a romantic object. As they break my heart into pieces I come back with a bigger, stronger, more efficient heart beat. I pulse and reverberate the sounds of absence, placed against itself then back in reverse. Am I dangerously approaching another abyss or the dream of bliss that’s only real in dreams?
My abstract is the surplus. Universal and particular, because the universal includes particulars. It started off as an abstract love letter, but when you follow the waves you end up on other continents. She’s talking chemistry. I’m seeking more in biology, and through these approaching a greater metaphysics.
Plato’s Socratic forms sparkle in the nights sky. I burry my face in the soil.
Look down at your member and observe the lack. Look up at the sky…
