I see the world as a machine. A well-oiled clock with its cogs rolling and rolling and ticking to a harmony heartbeat of life and love. And I find myself like the tiniest cog, lost in the midst of shambles and looking desperately for a place where I tick, tick, tick, tick. Nothing fits as I try and try again and I suddenly see my cogs are too square. All the bigger cogs tick-flick-clicking away are uneven and they link together with gleeful rhythm; their cogs are circular on one side - pointy on another. Their mesh makes an impenetrable series of rolling rolling and life. Happy, sad, eventful, unpredictable, spinning, spinning, spinning.
I see them turning and I turn too with click-click cheer. I copy, I imitate, and then I squeeze in a corner and I am part of the whirling turning clicking ticking world and my heart fills with joy. I want this place, just a little corner, just something where I fit and I live and my heart beats with the rest of the machine at the tick, tick pace that makes me smile with ecstacy. But then the neighboring cog is too big. Its sharp points poke me and its blunt points shove me away. I fall out of the corner and into void, staring at the machine I thought I knew and-
I see now it wasn't a machine at all, just a bunch of separate parts who spin on the axis of independence. Their pointy cogs are mere illusions to the others and when they turn, the tick, tick, ticking turns into the quiet whirl of imaginary space. My machine is gone, and so is my place, and when I continue to stare at the machine I thought I knew, I wish there were other square cogs and I can click, click, click with other tick, tick, tickers and spin and whirl and dance in my corner. I want my world as a breathing machine that glitters and jitters with life as the tiny happy square cogs in it revolve around predictability and consistency and order. No turner is lost in the void and even the oval ones survive, moving themselves to work with the square cogs and keep the world turning turning turning as it spins, spins, spins. And life breathes. But-
I only see my cluttered clicking clacking world and wonder.