And what do you see in the rollicking tongues of flame or in the sedate embers scintillation?
(…we were a seed, then a germ, then buds, then branches…)
Now, turning the staff into a poker, I rake their smoldering reminiscences, push them aside to open a hole for a dozen potatoes—dinner and breakfast, 2 in 1… The fire eats wood, I eat potatoes, mosquitoes eat me…
(…who do not eat, they do not live. Even considerate and prissy crystals devour space when growing.
But no one can ever eat up time because it does not exist at all. Time is nothing but a red-herring for distraction of innocent suckers. What they call “time” is just a series of different states of space. Some place sunlit from the left is morning, the same place sunlit from the right is evening. As simple as that. Day as a unit of time? Bullshit! Day is just the difference between two states of space. An apple adds to an apple to make a pair of them and not a unit of time, damn!.
Oh, sorry!. There, there! Don’t be afraid, sweetheart, gray wolves gone to their forest, no loose ends, all’s under a strict control…
Well, yes, it’s no use denying that space and time, when brought up, make me a bit spacey, quite a very tiny little bit, not noticeable, almost, especially if you don’t watch too closely. Yet, a brush in passing with that sweet couple and—ta-dah!—a short circuit sizzle and I’m emitting some folly accomplished. Kinda reincarnation of that crackpot God's fool, Vasily the Blessed, only cocked up by more earthly matters.
Still and all, I am not a violent case. Not in the least! I swear! And both Devil and God, (alphabetically) might absolutely safely attest that in the course of seizure no one gets harmed in any way because the hooey I pour forth is quite enough to tangle myself completely and—voilà!—here am I, the same submissive genteel yahoo, ready to carry on whatever they see fit to load onto the beast of burden…)