GOD OF TECTONICS.


          The God of Tectonics was believed to represent an extremely large accumulation of lives and afterlives—intrusive, extrusive, or both—located the anatomical core.  The definition of both God and Tectonics has been expanded and refined, and is still a work in progress.  God is now frequently used to describe voluminous areas of, not just mafic, but all types of metamorphic identity.  Sub-categorization of God into continental categories and chronological drift, and including pressures produced by tectonic processes, has been proposed.
          Natural evidence of the God of Tectonics remains inconclusive, while other possible remnants may have been dismembered by anatomical tectonic motion, such as the Transfinite Rift—the before and after effects of which are found throughout Eos, eastern Hestia and Themis, and north-western Amphitrite.
          While the interaction between these continents (localized but ever shifting) lacks a defined cause, a number of Gods (i.e. a mechanizing force) have been represented in the history of anatomical geophysics, allowing for a diversity of insular or anecdotal interpretations of this still indeterminant influence.  The God of Tectonics in particular, was believed by the hollow born (those born without identity) and the fossil born (those searching for purpose in the performance of anatomical metamorphosis) to be the originating fault line of the afterlife itself.

          How much does he know? How much does he know? How much does he know? How much does he know now.
          Not used to being behind there.  First time in someone else's eyes, without allowance to go to waste.  Did you think I was a talentless actor, hacking at a role, least of all authority showing? Did you think, now it all makes makes sense?  The distance.  The abstraction.  The anger.  The confusion.  
          Absent by whose definition.   I didn’t have a plan (hidden or purposely vague).  I mail fail, be a failure.  Did you think she did this to me too?  How well do you know the tectonic processes, how much of the research have you done?
          Transfinite Rift.  Unthought known.  For once it had nothing to do with you.   

          In terms of transparency, there wasn’t even a tally.  I have considered my options as carefully as I am capable of.  Could barely explain what it meant to be obsolete now.  Nobody know.  Whole forms flawed, a disconnect between the mechanics of the body.   All I could hear was a thicket inside.
          There is nothing wrong with me.   There is nothing wrong with me.  There is nothing wrong with me.  Shame is not a solvent or a solution.  So I don't try.  I don't hide it.
It’s not where you find all of my kind.  Ghostless to know, fossil born, afterlife neither eternal nor a form of interpretation.  Honestly, nothing has happened at all as I expected.  I never thought anyone cared if I got back to you.
          A god is a glacier, a gemstone, an accident of dust and glass.  A god is the only continent left in your place.

          What now?  A continent of lost addictions, clear as erosion, the littlest sands caving in.  There was no common sense or realistic approach.  Most likely, one of us will ask for this to die first.  Another trench where I sleep.  Where we sleep?  Differences between.
          If I don’t get out of this body (these bodies), off these continents alive (alone).

          "I didn't recognize you...  from a distance.  That's supposed to be my job."
          Were you motivated by jealousy, insecurity, lacks of perceived ability?  Did you think things should be happening faster?  If I could save one moment from the start.  See?  There are more than a few.
          An argument out of habit, there is little difference between nothing and everything happening.  This is how it is happening.

          Yes, I will wait for you.  Where you found me, up on the (continental) shelf, grounding my apologies, keeping the attic shadow hidden.  Curating, collating, collecting.  Not making progress, not making choice.
          Composition as a cycle of consequence and condition.  I would be lying if I said that it didn't bother me.  I think because I created, with the mistakes I made in my life, I created a picture of me.  That's not me.
          All light is the afterlife of mass.  A compromise has to count down.  Rules have to change.  Can’t you tell there's no one else around?

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