fear of death outstripped. i can't escape the tight-space between the reputation of having a fear of death and the crying out to. an absence so filled. that words are not enough to stay out of sight. to reach that white space I can see, in between. perhaps what we ought to reach in the end is a system that functions to point the lines out, to puncture in and out and wipe up and down on the borders at the end. there are symbols here which grin of what could happen to you. are you happy or