I guess my desire for you makes real time out the best option, desire like this is a grappling hook that’s no good, the polar to what we, yes, yet a sneak peek ocean wave overlapping to ultimate blank of… and all I really yearn for is… here, now, is each atom, photon that makes up everything around me, makes me, is this empty space, is that space, is … <pfft>. So much more empty space in an atom than anything. So much more. It is a blast out brain, forget experience, nothing. Is <blank> stop, white haze no experience to peace to find on the other side of Owold, is *so familiar*, my home space of yearning, my home space of desire, PAAAAAH, like transference in total continuous stream of constant craving, seen this elsewhere, and sex as in overcome with < <pfft> >. Overcome. Always was and will be in life perhaps, a stare out the window in expanse and *yearn* for it, that desert, lost, to *be it* and not just *in it*, to exist only as it, and not even then.