as the beer grows warm and the friends grow older

continental drift applied to personality. or just social networks. nobody likes to confronted with mortality, least of all their own. we all escape into ourselves and sometimes because of ourselves. the expanse is vast and the words so shallow. if ever a time to forge a binary, the one of experience vs. material rages silently. one could argue the experience is material, but to deny experience, well you my acquaintance are mistaken. people love to hurt from experience, whether it be good or bad hurt. to feel anything, in large and seeping quantity, that is the crux of adverts and life itself. commerce of ideas, commerce of stuff all comes from this place of craving permanence, as if a fruitfly wanted a tattoo. we feel it, but cant hold it, just have to think it and hope it follows us, transmuting as our moods and bodies grow weary and large, before we blink out. reverse the verse and kick it to the hearse, i stand corrected with the beat perfected. i dont have much but a varying vocabulary and the love of a good story. my trinkets and thoughts are just as easily traded as produce before metal, gods before computers. but i am here, myself, this breathing meme factory and here to interact and advance those seeking same.