“Face Like a Calling Card”

As I am writing this, things are crashing toward me, events are crashing toward me, evidenced if only from the fact that we’re hurling through space on this ice ball. This would seem to render us all small, but just as they say that our greatest fear is that we’re powerful, rather than powerless, I’ve just now come to the illumination that my worst mishaps in life have spawned from thinking myself without power — from “not knowing my own strength,” in other words. I made more of an impression than I thought I would, perhaps, just by talking to a stranger, or something, and maybe I communicate, convey, things by virtue of the very look in my eyes. Is this then the essence of life — emotion, or is it space, or is it time passing, all these things relative and fleeting. I was just acting arbitrarily, once, with you in me, pot of ravaged alfalfa.