Everything in hand, house, car, career careening out into nothing. Everything accumulated like charms clasping tight links in the story of life. Never there, always half the distance to here even when well in hand. What’s well in hand when the hand comes off? All parts are detachable: life love money and all the rest. Just like charms held tight in links circling the fist, always just out of reach.
All parts parted ad infinitum. Every atom an object of desire. Every hand out of hand. Endless desire, endless charms, endless running, endless endlessness.
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