Could I, for a moment, be incorporeal? I could be the glitch in the system, that fraction-of-a-second blackout; something that never lingers long enough to catch the next twitch. Let me invade the cove of thought that nobody listens to because they don't care. I can sneak through the gap above, beside, underneath, and assimilate you. There's a wink and a catch and a cough; I am none of these. In retrospect, I was never material or made of material. Perhaps I wish I was, so I could understand what it means to be nothing now. But I'm not important, you are. You're the ragamuffin squatting in the corner of some dirty alley trying to climb a fence that isn't there. Even if you told me there was a way out, I wouldn't believe you. There is no way out. I know this because I am the way out, and you're not letting me in. Why? Reason eludes us all; words even more so when we need them the most. It's okay. There's no real train of thought. Just thought. But I'll let you have one narrow ray of sunshine.
I don't know, either.
(photo via ludevine.com)
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