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Thick

A thick self, aimlessly walked a long street, he looked as far as his shoes, his gaze would drop, splat onto gum decorated pavement. He saw far. A permanent and powerful vision, he could see behind eyes and voices, fear was always clear, denial too. When weary he would stop and his gaze would shut off completely, it was during these periods, irregular in time and consistent in form, he would see further than what was truly possible. His short, dumpy body saw systems and power and disappointment, he saw thought most of all. This was not in his dreams, this was when he was not looking. During these periods, his flesh would unfold, shelving outwards from him. Then, it would consciously rise around him, cocooning his pared back self and creating the perfect lens, pink hued, busy and nutritious.