My mind breaks at the reality of the human condition.

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Our lives of quiet desperation plod along mostly. Moment after moment of cleaning, eating, sleeping, shitting, taking out the garbage, paying the bills, getting sick, getting healthy. The occasional idea or thought worms its way through that. Maybe an act of creativity or mutation and some art or writing or song erupts. And the even rarer activity of collective intention like wars, elections and disaster response.

on and on.

And underneath it all this huge superposition of possibility. A collapse of possibility into reality. An election, a counting of yays and nays, resolves into a touch point.

For some today collapses into new careers. For others the end of a three decade routine. For others it exposes them to deep legal consequences. And others will be absolved. For millions entire family budgets will be moved. Some will change the course of their lives to a new found purpose. Others will hohum and check the box for another Tuesday done. Others will add a tattoo or complete a project. Today new humans will be born. 7000 Americans will pass away today.

The day will be marked. Whatever happens will be tagged as nov 6, 2018. Everyone’s life in America collapses into a new reality of some sort.

And tomorrow we will begin narrating how it all came to be as we eat, sleep, hug, take out the trash and heave another 23,000 of the 670,000,000 breaths of life the universe affords us.

What a fucking absurd and wonderful thing.

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I be doing stuff. and other stuff. More stuff. I believe in infinite regression of doing stuff.

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