The Flow’s Gain

How do we map the flow of things toward a destination?

That depends on the types of sources, the types of flows, the types of designation.

And whether or not each can be counted upon. And how.

In other words, it’s complicated.

Wrap it all up in your inlets and outlets too, if you can manage a place for them.

All these are yours to command. Your units of flow. Use them only when you can tame the chaos caused, and you will prosper.


But this is easier said than done, and there are many risks worth protecting against.

So must we beware the events in between. They do not belong to us. Speak into them a name, and just watch what ensues.

A howling wind bellows from these not-so-hidden stars. And for every flow, there are at least two.


For what is any event if not a moment between two flows?

So is there at least one flow that begins at its horizon, just as for every flow, there is at least one other event at the end of its path.

What happens there depends on the nature of the source, the nature of the path, the nature of the destination.

Or natures.

In other words, it’s complicated.


Within a given flow, our unitary values cannot be lost. But across them? Across the accordion of time? There are… effects.

Events always have effects.

Some events crush flow. Others simply preserve it, or try to. Yet other events blossom it into a million fluttering angels, each smiling at the newborn joy of an inner-sprouting universe, their hands outstretched toward each other in a singular, heavenly dovetail. A singular touch.

Or is it a three-fold touch? Or… five?

Oh my, this could quickly get out of hand.

In other words, it’s complicated.


Anyway, yes.

Flow can be crushed or blossomed. It can be gained and lost.

The stakes are very real.

And the more distant and flow-like the events in our domain, the harder it is to tell them apart. The harder it becomes to discern source from destination.

Roots and branches can look awfully similar at a distance.


If the flow is vast enough and beautiful enough and layered enough, through by through – then from any distant center we can hold within it, time will appear to move at nearly a standstill – and there will always be at least two horizons in our eyes.

At least two, but almost certainly more.

In other words, it’s complicated.


But again, be careful. As we explore that manyness, the dyads and the quadrads, the unitaries and the trinaries, the precious encryptions of jealous priests both human and not-so-human, we will always find that the accordion effects increase as we approach an origin, or a destination. As we encroach on either of those two most distant limits from within any given flow, we can face resistance.

Friction. Warping. Surface tension. Distortion. Torque.

If we somehow manage to crack the kernel of the event itself – and yes it can sometimes be done, it can in someways be possible – only then does the hidden event come howling forth with the unknowable ferocity of nature.

Reconciliation. Outpour. Release. Rupture. Collision. Fissure. Fusion. Implosion. Explosion. Or all the above. Or none.

Only at the event itself do we find out if it was truly one, or many.

Only then do we find out its essence. Or essences.

In other words, it’s complicated.


These horizons and limits can creep up on us both more slowly and more quickly than one might except.

And when we cross them, we often discover that we never find the actual events we presupposed, instead only what lies beyond their inner horizons.

The thing we sought, the essences contained, remain further occluded in further flows, even though they are also everywhere, all around us, hidden and unhidden, outside and within.

That, or they evaporate entirely.


Yes, flows can evaporate.

They are subject to loss and gain, as are all the things flowing within them.

Music, words, light – all can be crushed under the glacial pressures of our vast cosmos.

Or severed under the split-second slashes of crossing clock domains.

And the types of these domains are myriad, legion, and fractally intersectional.


Indeed, just like the darkest stars in the sky above us, there is also an event horizon in our eye, where light first flares out and then dives in, hurling itself into an unknowable abyss, perhaps never to be seen again.

Whether or not the light’s flow continues the journey? Whether or not its essence propagates on?

That is not for the light to decide. Only the eye behind the event knows that.

If there is one at all.


But whether flow is lost or gained when we arrive at our destination? Whether everything we know and love is crushed in that attractor? Or whether it carries on?

That is up to us, the source. At least in part. And the light we carry. At least in part. As well, in part, the destination. And, in part, the flow itself.

Yes, indeed, it’s complicated.


But fear not, and rush not.

Don’t panic, and grab your towel.

For the truest light always moves calmly toward its destination, waving unwaveringly toward where it belongs.

If we hope to bring our human light out into the world, if we hope to once and for all build a human world order, we should strive to do the same.


This applies regardless of whether or not we know that order precisely at the outset of our journey.

This applies regardless of whether or not we can ever truly know ourselves.

Besides, an event’s essence cannot be known for certain from within its flow, so there is no point to fear its many unknowns.


A moth does not fear the flame, nor do they rush toward it.

A seed does not fear the sun, nor do they rush toward it.

Like a ray of light streaming toward its destination, they simply accept that they will one day get there, eventually, in time.

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