to the point of tears..

Epiphanies can never be momentous; they must come to one in a lazy illuminatory fashion- not those flash-of-blinding-lights you're told to look out for. And when it came it was banal and simple, just about as boring as you think you are. Just one word: live. In the present, the simple tense- essentially, the unadulterated. Pure sense perception. Just wallow for now in the amazement overtaking you, the amazement that arises the realization that the substratum behind the rise and fall of flesh is a complex web of throbbing veins, a matrix of flesh blood skin bones hair and spit, rage and tears. This fluid movement of living breathing sighing- it exists, and some curious concomitance of your fate and atoms moving in the universe has somehow engineered the existence of this exact moment. And so can you do anything but let yourself be engulfed? Who are you to resist the weight of timelessness

(do not ask why)

itself?

because

without me

you do not exist.