In the end it all cycles back to the fundamental ontological confrontation, found most immediately in the yelp that introduces "You're Gonna Miss Me" by the Thirteenth Floor Elevators: the grapple tossed across the crevasse, a recoiling back into origination, the thrust and pump by which we define the undefined, mass defining void, waste becoming food, waxing and waning, and the calculus by which I intend to engender power through simple acts of charity. A valley of humility betwixt two mountains of conceit. You're gonna wake up one morning.
