page 3, paragraph 1:
    Glory, glory, hallelujah.

    "I can still reason - I studied mathematics,
     which is the madness of reason - but now I want the plasma -
     I want to eat straight from the placenta."
        Feels like wanting to tear through reality and experience the things
        outside of it in a primal, connected manner. Wants to know the source
        intimately, like mother/fetus.
    "The next instant, do I make it? or does it make itself?
     We make it together with our breath.
     And with the flair of the bullfighter in the ring."
        Time progresses, but so do you.
        Your choices along with the procession of time creates the next moment.

page 3-4, paragraph 2:
    Trapped in the present with almost(!) no way of catching it.

     "Every thing has an instant in which it is.
     I want to grab hold of the <em>is</em> of the thing.
     These instants passing through the air I breathe: 
     in fireworks they explode silently in space.
     I want to possess the atoms of time."
        An instant is equated to fireworks as they soar through the air;
        however, the instant passes not with a boom, but with silence.
        Instants do not always arrive and depart with fanfare.
        A desire to have every instant, to keep it as a specimen
        able to be examined at any time.
     "And to capture the present, forbidden by its very nature:
      the present slips away and the instant too, 
      I am this very second forever in the now."
        Due to the nature of time,
        it is impossible to linger on a moment the way we desire.
        The present becomes the past, the future becomes the present.
        We move forward constantly while staying in the present moment.
     "Only the act of love - the limpid star-like abstraction of feeling -
      captures the unknown moment,
      the instant hard as crystal and vibrating in the air and life
      is this untellable instant, larger than the event itself:
      during love the impersonal jewel of the moment shines in the air,
      the strange glory of the body, 
      matter made feeling in the trembling of the instants - 
      and the feeling is both immaterial and so objective that it seems
      to happen outside your body, sparkling on high,
      joy, joy is time's material and the essence of the instant."
        Time always progresses, and as you progress through it the most of it
        goes uncommitted to memory. The instant is not captured.
        However, love, joy, happiness, is what captures the instant.
        The essence of an instant is able to be captured as a memory.