If I close my eyes can I not fly?

Ah the old cogs and wheels, better of by half you know. The point wavers and then goes to get a sandwich. Sandwich in this heat? He was eating crisps I tell you.
Excuses of salt my left foot. Just a few degrees off the right at this juncture. Cymbals. Unknown data. Frankly at this stage all anyone wanted to do was find out exactly why it was we had that line on the screen in the first place the right side of the wrong head I think we may not know who exactly we are it's a different level just going on and on like a radio sound in the static I had the moment.
Caught it.
Hah.
Poke the little bugger with a stick and dance on it.
Rah rah rah.

Ahem.
Right then. Episode two, lets try again.
Need something to start it but now what to do ahaha now it's working the flow of the river is the sign of the film and the movie listings page by page paragraph whole forget the spelling don't look don't leap don't sing or twist the spelling is all gone and now the words are off the records.

Definitely need to improve my typing I think.
Left is going well but I'm using a single finger for the right.

Crescendo. And it was only half done, half baked, baked in this heat I tell you tell me tell her herb her hard hat hail mail mail on the wash don't try don't look in the sink damn that bike in that nuclear shelter she didn't look back and walk on for the path before what did I didn't I did I do. Least it's alive. What is alive.

Minimum point of consciousness, at what point do you want to switch off; what question, condition or state would you define for yourself to be considered 'off'.
Would you want to squeeze every last moment from your life right up until just your eyes barely twitch when they put the feeding tube in your arm.
Would you wake up and realise that you can no longer quote five digit primes by rote and decide it's time to leap off that bridge.

State or sense or lack thereof.

In a data stream of the world would you count for parity?

(no subject)

The ocean washed onto the shore in endless rolling foam, wind whipping over the sand to cause a flying wave of stinging sensation.
Roaring at the rocks. Breaking around them to crash and collide in fresh salt spray. Mist in the air.
Sea green below the blanket of blue that stretched to the horizon.
The last hints of visitors to those sands eaten away, piece by piece, with each sliding hiss of water creeping closer and closer up the beach.
The sun bade a farewell on the horizon, shimmering crimson fire fading as the ocean quashed it once again.
The first few stars opened their eyes to look down on the cove, waking to join the moon in silent vigil of the tide returning once again.