Ten-Two

Monday ten-two 70° 81% a lovely time in 7H but terrible to have lived into a Time that makes no sense. Nothing about humanity has been sensible since the nine-eleven moment before someone on the 95th floor of the North Tower looked up from her desk and saw an airplane yards away and closing, yet the Milky Way continues spinning and speeding into infinite distance unknowing and uncaring. We do only to ourselves.

What makes universes die? How many have done? What’s between universes that keeps them apart, or do they pass through each other like merging galaxies, or burst like popping soap bubbles, and who cares, grieves when a universe dies? Who, what, when, was before the Beginning, or was there simply Always, Is, Be?

Everything makes sense but humans. We are the center of nothing. Mark Twain was right.

God love the souls who died senselessly in LasVegas, and those who loved them.

DThos+