Swear

EVERYTHING CHANGES OR EVERYTHING
    STAYS THE SAME
    
    First, a history: I was writing my
    thoughts in a book.  I got a typewriter
    and typing things in a book
    became impossible.  I began typing
    on 4x6 notecards.  I ran out of
    ribbon in my typewriter.  I wrote
    on the 4x6 notecards.  I bought a
    new ribbon and new notecards.  Now
    again I am typing on notecards.
        What have I been typing?
    Thoughts, impressions maybe, a log
    of changes to my mental state.  I
    waited long enough and I began
    recording them in the same way.  If
    I wait longer the ribbon will run
    out again and I'll write again, on
    notecards or in my book.  The same
    thoughts in different bodies.
        That's what it means, "Every
    thing changes or everything stays
    the same."  It might as well be
    "and."  Local differences add up to
    global identities.  It's a hoop,
    right?  And we keep going around
    and we think it's flat but it's
    round like the Earth.

Paul pushed his chair away from the Writing Desk and stared at the notecard. He stood up, knocked his head on the lightbulb, swore. He pulled the notecard from his typewriter and crumpled it up with his left hand. With his right hand he reached in his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. He put one in his mouth, threw the paper in the corner, grabbed his axe, went out into the woods.