Y process.

I'm a bullet travelling in the direction of the name that was chosen for me. (an instruction shouted from great distance. an interpretation devoid of possibility, born behind partially opaque hospital curtains).

There has been no evidence to suggest it should not be trusted, but plenty of evidence that nothing else should be. Loyalty is insisted upon. Significant deviations are proven false with the assertion of their incompatibility with a blunt object at high velocity. Internal communication structures didn't require a more refined validation process. (In every dark shell was a potential attacker. Our incompleteness was the horizon of our language. We couldn't reason with them. We were not aware of this possibility).

detached moment searching for door

Resisting the urge to be held as a hollow statue in the mist by confident forces.

The memory of a light that permeates as if it were surfaceless. Waiting beneath the shell is the optic nerve of a mother still breathing in the sun.

Everything I'm attracted to out there is an attachment to the reflection of my wide open arms. It is all a map of the depths of my entanglement of light and darkness. My concrete vision is an approximation of a moment on its way to its true destination.

A glimpse of the night sky

In time, when all is woven, a critique from a forgotten force: a darkness eating a path through the edges of our form. Rivers and valleys, ripples where the oceans meet the floor. Our construction existed above a boundless expanse. It was there: the reason for our existence, conversing with our buried roots. The womb of our potential.

Memories: Held still in time. Amassed and assessed from all possible angles. A way inside.

moment of orbit vs all encompassing junction

Blood is shallow, the world is flat. Each vector of potential left uncompensated for leaves in its wake broken action upon its axes.

lungs/wings

Culmination of experience has led me to some of these conclusions:

Don't let your child ride their tricycle into the ocean.
Don't enter an elevator if you plan to exit on the same floor.

(null) speculation.

Order in the universe in an iterative process. Clouds of matter exist in malleable states above the certain surface they rest upon. Their combined interaction with that surface and each other is the key to the connective force that pulls its arms back from the brink of darkness. The core is surrounded by a mesh, amplified and channeled through in a refined form (with its heart on its sleeve) on all visible axis.

It is a nodes ability to connect with a variety of forms that widens the range of possibilities for complex interaction. Energy flows through the resultant web, like charge in a cloud, searching for a path. A drive toward a simple, conductive form, one which allows escape on all visible axis.