Matchsticks

The units of reality may have a circumspect form of causality and some penchant to throw a wrench into the bulk, quantum. The emptiness may be a spool shaped pool of complete pure for sure potentiation in a non-stasis mimicking of a static geometric conflation engendering consternation over a won over hand and glove mismatch at the great cosmic potlatch in someones other sky which in turn burns up and settles into the order containing kettles of someones ground set up to pound sand whilst desperately trying to rebrand a loss of capacity as evidence of some veracity about concerns about substrata being obsolete and of causality being illusory yet some choose to see a free glide to the polygot star refractory to be besy made on the backs of bestier beasts fed well in contexts of cognitive decline rich house deconstructs done with some luck but not always done efficiently as you can see none other than trees in long lanes of roads made of varieagated materials in a sort of solid soup of rocklike combinatorics done in shells of metal and redone in furnaces of stars only to restun some next universe as a remake of an existence spread out over something that tries to be contained as a new sort of infinitude but ends up getting itself in double binds of various relatively tame adversarial relationships with itself in the same thing that some may be able to define as a space just in case that in order to get touch some may go other ways about it and not pout too much at the cosmic conveinience store on their way to posdibly implore management to forget their knightly errands and take a quick unscripted trip to the irregularly sheduled skinny dip at the periferies of proper society beyond the real polis rewinding work done better with longer puns and flinty rows of biblical guns but regressions of progressions og abtentions of interventions of diminutions of volitions of tweekings reeking of oily evanences and or nor for evidences may get some on fences concerning wether bedrock may have made fred rock an Aurora cradle in some eighties october won over and done well by 3 rewrites on a Thursday night followed by a fright flight to epic tome filled hills to respill ancient cognitive raves as watery fallen repatternings of conflations of substance with nothings that pretend to be information at this punctured by irreverency juncture after some miraculous 25 year intervention made by generations of better dudes to errantly redo the ancient codes of clay making twin and twixt described vectored up redirects of the course of constructed narrative node space to erase all sense of connectivity and redo another wave of dissconnect in another part of a space that cant logially be yet is for liz. ARd brains chain forever war restraint reframes as weakness as yet to digress the matchsticks blew apart after someone thought it noteable to take a note of their arrangement as something unique here or there or indeed anywhere because it mattered for some random reason...