My confidence had been assumed-laying underneath the byline of the worn almanac-from the outset-there have been three main definitions of fluidity. Tactically, I have always been the eldest, when armed with a well-meaning calculator and a flapping strand of a matted nape. And like that, I am committed to the oddest of experiences. Not from travels or tribulations, but from dividing inception into unrequited, equal parts. Fur and food were the logical places to start. Have you noticed the improvement…within yourself…or do I still require the trackings of a sherpa? For your part, I hear they are quite efficient during the lessor months. Skip the rationale and the ascension, there are twelve clean paths that will be the easiest yet to design and to frame. I am a genius, a genus and a genesis. No one should question the whispers-silence smells funny, when looking out at the erratic droplets of a nugatory rain. Inside there is warmth from movement and inspiration from a single bulb. The blanket and the shade are necessarily lost from an era that was overbearing and prim. What is neat and orderly may be kept in other rooms, or within wings that can only predict that they meet the requirement for dressing. The littered envelopes on the floor confirm I have been delivered to the correct address. The stew is never piping, if only the waiter could free himself from a scattering haste, perhaps I would not rattle and the corners of the calendar could be dulled over and over again. But then what would we have to talk about? Answer without reliving the paper cuts –or sort the nonsense under the drip of the shaking pen. Carrots should be crispy enough to fool the new processor but not the origins of a plant and its stem. If I chose a weakened structure, then gravy would seep into the crevices of your key strokes, chasing the frightened appeal of a self-righteous whim. Yet the year of seven awaits us…in all of those unified, square pieces, that seem repeatedly unwilling to spread out or search for an improved position to defend. The outgrowth could be delicious, and varied when finally called upon, but what a shame-most fronds feel it easier to be castigated then nested within the annual eve of pretend.
