Clones of the Infinite

In truth we are a boundless continuation of one another.

Each molecule that I breathe traces the maze of all humanity from the first bludgeoning with bone to the last sexual gasp.

Upon my plate, soil forged by the nucleus of the sun, I breathe in the sustenance of buffalo and bison and giraffes and spiders and worms and mycelium.

My heart, your heart, their heart, our heart — we beat in fire until extinguished. We beat in darkness until lit.

Every morning for every living being brings consciousness and a new opportunity to live in truth the stuff of dreams. Every morning brings with that consciousness the end of all beings, of all planets and shifting gears and dying moons imploding in that squid ink vacuum that we call space.

I’m surrounded by a hundred trillion frozen ice crystals right now, huddling in the darkness, underneath a yellow egg yolk moon. And so are you.

A disease isn’t a singularity, nor is love or hope or joy or the simple pleasure of touch, fur, weariness, stone.

We are born as membranes of a cosmic dance, the amniotic sac of a single consciousness. As our minds grow inter-dimensional root systems we are as all others, and yet we cling to our individual wombs like security blankets even as they crumble to dust.

We are unique! And yet none of us are separated by so much as a grain of sand.

We are clones of the infinite; beautiful patterns in the grain of the boundless tree.

Annihilating the Other is annihilating the self. There will never be a place to hide as perfect as the womb, no matter how large our mansions or yachts.

There is no limit to creativity, as there is no end to death.