take two points on a record, one near the center and one near the fringe. they both make one revolution in the exact same time, but the point near the center has to move a magnitude of order times faster. or is it that the point on the outskirts has to move a magnitude of order more distance? or is it that both are equally worthy but just different? or is it that we all get inexorably drawn to a middle ground?
is it that the older we get, the more time slows down? or speeds up, as i was often told growing up, come in with the long set sun after days of wander and wonder before there was a man in the house. it must be hard, i think, now that step-parents are coming back into vogue, to survey the landscape of a broken home and not think, 'what this place needs is a little discipline.' order is what brings order to the universe, this vast chaotic space of untempered possibilities.
i am at the moment immodestly fascinated with the relationships of early hominids.
and the subtle pronunciatory interpretations of different voice actors reading separate volumes of the same audiobook series.
and long internal dialogues of how i might imagine second meetings after long distances apart.