nothing came as more of a surprise than this: that our failures were our greatest moving forward. we dreamt of success while our hands made trite. that trite became our reason for living. that living became the beingness of our earthly selves: we are alive and well. today, our shared failure has become so great, so massive and massive in potential, that we cannot hope to contain ourselves. luckily, we never have and we never will.

instead, we became ourselves with every minute that passed by. we became more and more painfully and playfully ourselves with each passing day. each snowfall made a snowfall, and with rain came rain again. all winds had pointed north and the trial became our tribulation. we've seen these hardships made by us: we've seen failure made possible. we who pine after success made failure every time.

what we have called the accident, this thing became our nature. we ran from our nature. we ran towards our nature. we surrounded ourselves on both sides with failure, success in our hearts. held on to an anti-nature, believing ourselves to be other. we spoke in opposition and the image was reversed. oh what failure! and here we've grown again.

the other-than-ourselves was always becoming ourselves just as we named it. ourselves becoming larger with each naming.