involuntary memory part IV

I certainly did enter the labyrinthine beauty of the powerful now's palpitations; my mind a virtual instrument for the palpation of pure presence. Funny thing this 'now', it seems tenseless but carry within the withering ripe fruit of a bygone past and the budding seed of a future to come. Come late summer in amber orchards the entire human condition is revealed in the prophetic fall of an apple; but what of its landing? This seemingly hollow thump never gets any fucking credit and Eve's favourite for emergence from self-incurred immaturity is left on the ground in self-fermentation: stupefied in wanton self-consciousness we slither away from the richness of its subtractive sensibility into self-immolation. But in this instant no such discard concerns me. My now is within the firmament spewing snow over the deep silence of the forest; I imagine these flakes of contingency cover the pine-trees much like fresh, white sheets touched by starlight honour her naked curves completely. Sometimes the most truthful unveiling is an envelopment. As we penetrate further into the precipice of civilization this awareness ricochets on the back of my skull and I realize that the present itself is a ridge between revelation and concealment: this 'now' is an investigation into the apparent contradiction and these shards of internal time travelling track along the apex providing a limit to time itself. Suddenly time's tides seem to have turned and finding myself in nature is replaced with losing myself in civilization. But this voyage demands a new beginning.