The world phases in and out like a bad connection on the tv screen. One moment it’s all right and the next moment I lose track of the souls behind blank faces, lose the radio-signal for connection; surrounded by moving forms and drowning in surging static voices. Maybe I will rattle myself apart and disintegrate into – quintessence of dust? I am disjointed! There is unity and I will believe that always, but I can neither see nor taste it in this moment (unity of confusion) nor can I communicate. I feel the incomprehensibility of this jumbled sharp-edged mess even as it slips through fingers and clatters on the page. I try to explain myself to myself and all three of us stumble into a stuttering silence of confusion.

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