![]() Man, oh man, thou patent anachronism! Why does he doubt himself. And now the cinematically menacing sense that probability knows exactly where he is & when he’ll be there. Under any other conditions this moment wouldn’t’ve been possible. A faint distant memory of a quantum state. Whole galactic floes swallowed in the Void, invisible to the Naked Eye as it dangles from its life-support. The visor comes down over this floating world. Perhaps the history of a deception isn’t the same as the history of an illusion, but what then? One of these had an author, something intended it. They listened to his thoughts, vital signs. Do these detached fragments prove Time exists? They watched him. Gagarin lies there staring at black bits & pieces of retina floating in the light. An idea of “nothing.” First one, then the other. Nothing from nothing, but the random propulsion of an idea. Focus on the drift, the undertow, the invisible line reeling in. ![]() Slant of cosmic rain slashing the blacktop. ![]() The Orbital continues like this, night after night. ![]()
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