Like everyone, I am arriving and departing at once. My home steps out of the house when I do and stays within me. Through these motions, I discover just where it is that I sweat, and if I may confess, there is not one inch on me that has held back when I turn toward you. All my exertion must make me appear like a blooming, or a little explosion, within my human totality, if the look on your face gives any indication. Aren’t I exploring myself out of a body until I am all absence? When arriving and departing at once, the days last equally long. Sunday starts again toward a Monday with promise that Tuesday broadens for Wednesday’s realizations that allow Thursday to sway to a restful Friday for the reflections that occupy a Saturday wherein I am stilled and all days are the same distance from me. I am not existing; I am being existed.