the title of this moral reads 'hunger'.
the moral is nothing new.

listen,
there are things in this world
that are not just similar to you,
they are you.
they flash and blaze on and flicker and spit.
they listen and hum and make funny noises
that make my insides smile.
they self destruct and smell of frankinscene
and lemonpeel, of jasmine and lightning
and wet mountains and waving seaweed.
they taste like you
and feel just like you.

the story of this moral reads 'to get there, "you" must die'

so i try.

hm. it is seemingly harder to die than the last time.
..because i know how silly and easy it is to accomplish.
there are no tricks involved.
you just
stop
what you are doing.

sometimes i get sad when i can't smell the rolling seaweeds.
i think of how rightious it would be to inhale them just once.
to feel my eyes hollowed and sung into a beam by you.
and then i remember the moral. as long as i think i am hungry,
i don't know that everything i do is you.

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