A World Without Paper

I live in a world without paper, without flat planes.... at least without planes which can be folded and tucked away in pockets that no one can find.

Hold out hand, grab space, tuck and fold just so.....

But no -- either I've forgotten the space-time origami or the paper here is just too thick.

Virtual paper. Happy zippy electron paper. Nobodybereadin'mydiary paper.

Here we go 'round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush....

All this space, all these secret places to write.... [sniffsniff] .... sort of reminds me of Home. Notime. Nospace. Emptiness. Shunyata.....

But of course this is Home, This is That -- it's just turned stuff side out. Stuff. Not-stuff. Two sides of the same coin .... or, more specifically, the union of an infinitely sided coin with the piggybank that can hold it.... though really the coin and the piggybank are the same thing.

Shhhh.....

Such a silly fear, that one could eat the other, as if the coin actually ceases to exist when it drops into the slot and disappears. What's at the bottom of the rabbit hole.....? What spins down there where the fractal comes to one singular

.


?

Grow an eyestalk -- go see for yourself.