A page

For us, observers of life, the conditions of humanity, provisional trusses formed along a framework of postulates and hypothesees, form together, clumping and shifting, moving. Even shaking. We look, we listen. Taking notation in mediums of specialization and craft. We think, we grow, we listen. Observatry turns to apathy forms atrophy, a disconnectedness atop a high dive, white like ivory. Plunge. Hit the water and sink straight to the bottom, let the air slip from your lungs. The cycle continues. Experience, cultivation, a numbing and ever refreshing wave, continually crashing, receding, renewing. For us, we feel, we love, we laugh, we listen. Always.