work

The sound it makes saying the word work makes my stomach swirl

It feels like I am completely dedicated to being in favor of an object

And the way it is done and its consistency

Changes the way I feel about my being

A being who has emptied himself from 

What is out there to be consumed

A being who wakes up in the silence of the night

To remind himself of the time before the creation of the light

The time when the only thing to do

Was to look at the flame of consciousness in front of the eye

The flame yet not have any meaning at all

But in its stillness was burning to be looked upon

And the walls

The walls were all to be experienced but most of all,

To show the confoundment of the mysterious fact that we are,

A subjective happening that is are