in habit

say sure not to be sure on the march with hesitancy in front the routine sound now made silent an instrument devout veiled being could not clearly be seen nor heard yet its presence is unmistakable darkness unsettling densities dizzify within a maze no account no bearing no compass anywhere near all but unperceived by any sense unity of oneness despite individuality a void made white as pages without any writing drawing or any trace or mark whatsoever extending forever within such driven snow permitting zero visibility there was no signal going out nor coming in though there could have been and there certainly were many feeble attempts but to no avail thus far nothing and yet the accumulation the build-up then what other than this could there be under such conditions? an unkind stillness of category separated from the next densely populated self-figured present called now's the time when the veil shimmers itself loose though not necessarily all by itself for nothing is all of course stimulates all into manifestation if only partially in these spirals sometimes called circles and slow it goes fast and vastly little at a time and then others so suddenly a rupture the desire to flee as if fleeing were possible