Where are we now? Where am I—? How—
You say, oh, There’s just too much time slipping since I’ve been out wandering, and, oh, there’s just too much time passing since I’ve been gone—and I think that maybe if we all stayed young without noticing that would solve it, but I know somehow our minds would die finding a way back—
To the big round ikea Raymor container, glowing life urban outfitter’s bulb, where there’s just too much wasted time to empty out; eventually—
It’s scattered ashes everywhere where we’re going.