A scrabble grab bag of soup

Temporarily, temporal crannies lodge numb agony in a swirling continuity, my temples.

I notice instants, but can't understand duration.

Gauze fuses rawness glued to transformation.

I’m not dead and endings are beginnings.

I have exhausting involuntary constriction, so lay off.

Oblivion, obliterated feel very different but I'm both. We’ve always had masks.?

The nuances between proximity and perception.

I’ve perceived a lot with varying degrees of approximation.

Death implies life which organs do not have. We replace ourselves all the time.?

Machine and machination but I am neither, man. I’m sprung from vivisection.?

I is and am becoming all as the word is pronounced. i i i – I vibrate tautologies resonate.?

I’m a dry drum with woody tension.?

So, I’m –really– pretentious but at least I’m genuinely disturbed