i am a thousand stringy points

i am only by thin strings dangled w/in this Minkowskian four plane establishment
physically speaking
the rest of my marionette apparatus hangs slightly up and to the left above where all the other action happens
astrally i am tethered so that in the inevitable instance of a mortal catastrophe w/alacrity i may swing from this branch of Yggdrasil on a vine of my own divine devised dimensions to another world, more pleasantly curved than the coordinate system i sit w/in currently
my contingency plan in the case of emergency is a cosmic flight of the utmost uncertainty urgently undertaken down a path of my own imagination towards the unfamiliar grasses past the facets of reality that i can see
in fervid hope that across this yonder fence if i springbok w/ a strong enough intent and seem hell-bent square- & only on achieving by my own flight independence i might smell the fresh cut lawn upon its other side and rest and sigh and sit a while, in pace requiem forever heaven’s resident
i am a thousand stringy points swinging transfixed in a thousand tiny pinpricks of light in a net spanning aeons in circumference round a well of darkness
and every little thousandth bit of bright contains at heart a part (of darkness) and wants to reunite with the rest of itself in the middle of its everything
but the yearn to turn back back back into the dark keeps me up here suspended
a thousand tiny bites a second at a time
i am propelled by the data
constantly revealing in what i’ve managed to strew
i am permanently and irrefutably incomplete
i am a logical system that has glanced off the edge of an axiomatic horizon plunging into a canyon until it can be stimulated to climb back out again
i am ping pong in between these walls
a force once sleeping ute-y anxious now to be unbounded a cord to furl in the wind