We stood there witnessing an endless abyss of time that rushed
through our collective subconscious , hinting a lonesome onset . Perhaps
a calculative series of psychological safety measures inherited by the
inordinate illusions prevalent in all our unspoken dreams. Beyond the
oblivion these dreams flow without an apparent reason , without a soul
and without a name. We embrace this resonance of unknown in our own
subjective ways yet oblivious to the most obvious . Existence is random
whose randomness is wider than a black hole that can wrap millions of
suns under its dark wings.
Indeed , this world is just a fragment of ordinary perception like the above experiencing itself randomly.
Indeed , this world is just a fragment of ordinary perception like the above experiencing itself randomly.
No comments:
Post a Comment