Who Are You?

_ Pictures... everybody's taking pictures...
_ Mugging for ze camaawwa, in francais.
_ Mugging for the camera?... Howsaboy?
_ Why you say that? Why do you say, " Howsaboy"?
_ It's what two guys, who’ve aged, say to each other after they’ve run out of shit to say.
_ Two guys?
_ White guys.
_ White? I've never seen anyone who is white. I think that would scare the shit out of me.
_ Well... let's say they've gone from little pink babies to somewhat gray around the gills.
_ Pink to Crayola gray; white.
_ It is breathing. Howsaboy?
_ If blowing up a little not knowing into a strangely arranged chaos is good, then I'm good.
_ We're beautiful, with or without the alphabet.
_ You're a comfort.
_ It is breathing. The sky... aloof; eyes gather it in.
_ It is breathing?
_ The funneling, indeed... from the imaginary to the mystery - life; all the while, through every conceivable nuance, it is breathing. Shall we?
_ Breathe?
_ Chai. Foamy; slightly sweet - not too; contingent.
_ Contingent?
_ Contingent... Howsaboy?

                                                                            <><><>

     ... A great vortex pulls us through countless lives, never moving.

     ... The impossibility of mathematics lies in the divisibility of the number one; countless lives, never moving - what he thunk.

photo credit