Take the so-called standard of living. What do most people mean by "living"? They don’t mean living. They mean the latest and closest plural approximation to singular prenatal passivity which science, in its finite but unbounded wisdom, has succeeded in selling their wives.
love is a deeper season than reason; my sweet one
notice the convulsed orange inch of moon perching on this silver minute of evening
Always it’s Spring)and everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.
Unbeing dead isn't being alive.
Exists no miracle mightier than this: to feel.