The realm of my feasibility struggled itself for a stationed equilibrium
of responsibility and existential credos. The inconsistency of romance
often withdrew into her absence of silence. Pastness of the present and
presentness of the past along with the absurdity of the future, but the
certainty of death made things more vivid, though with a thin frame of
perplexities. The universalized-self triumphed over the perceived
meanings and languages of humanity. Time was captured within the
gargantuan vacuum of absolute nothingness. Sound was trapped, light was
trapped, and momentum of the entire vicious cycle was trapped within
that monstrous non being of nothingness. Theoretician of mine demanded
the theoretical frameworks and critical edges of every existing being
and non being, the imagination weaved a web of beauty and absurdity of
that chaos and serenity that originated from the absolute nothingness
and caused it.
P.S. Why should one try to be a star when one can be the magnificent universe?
P.S. Why should one try to be a star when one can be the magnificent universe?
Comments
Post a Comment