The Ballads of Gravity

"But..."  I was being dragged by the ebb of time into the abyss. On the shores, beneath the mountains, blue waters lulled my feet. I was looking at the completion of my life as she was calling me to join the tides.  The gravity of the past pulled me into the quantum architecture of multiple dimensions of life. I fell into the realms where I tricked my past to stay engaged. My present is an analogy of my past. The energy I created, then, in the quantum architecture transformed into an autonomous being of intelligence. I was unable to stop it from growing into a being. They said, "Quantum corresponds to each other and can transfer information to each other, no matter of space or time." Her lips quivered, and her feelings clouded her mind as she appeared like a glitch in time. Her words echoed through the ages, " We should remain ignorant of each other like we used to be in the past. I will pretend that I never knew you." P.S: Spenser read from his book, &

In the quiet solitude of my thoughts, I found an unusual delight in loving someone oblivious to my existence. It was a pleasure that defied the conventional bounds of connection, surpassing the limits of form, substance, and cognition. The question of "How I defined her" remained a nuanced exploration, a constant journey through the corridors of my evolving understanding of love. Lost in contemplation, I gently closed my eyes, allowing the canvas of my imagination to come alive. A fleeting smile graced my lips, a silent tribute to the vivid images painted by my mind. As my eyes slowly reopened, a sigh escaped, betraying the futile attempt to banish her from my thoughts. She was like a breath of fresh air, akin to the early morning dew—persistent, refreshing, and impossible to shake off. No matter how diligently I tried to divert my mind, her thoughts persisted, a relentless night train traversing the dark woods of my consciousness, illuminating my entire existence. In lovi

Back in the days of my youth, I was just a boy when I first encountered her. She had this incredible ability to make me dream. As time unfurled its wings, I transformed into a man, and it was during this transition that she initiated what I came to call the ghost protocol. Between the innocence of boyhood and the responsibilities of manhood, she molded me into a poet.  She entered my life like a sudden burst of sunlight, and just as swiftly as she appeared, she vanished, leaving me with the echoes of her presence. I called her Ruth. Looking back, I realize that something went awry, and it all traces back to the moment when I met her. A meeting I shouldn't have allowed. But, as they say, bygones are bygones, and now I yearn to forge ahead. The desert, my current abode, is a peculiar place. It is both spiritual and draining, affecting me in ways I struggle to comprehend. Whether it transforms me into a sage or a wealthy man, leads me to an early demise, or grants me a long life, one

Every day unfolds as a dance of atoms and molecules, a delicate inversion in the quantum realm. Ruth grappled with the self-destruction and regeneration encoded in the unknown, unable to digest the complexities. Meanwhile, my preoccupation lay in normalizing inversions on the outer layer of life—a reality perceived within the common understanding and the illusions that accompany it. To escape the constant barrage of human emotions, I explored the persistent inversion and manipulation of dimensions. This exploration aimed to create an expansive realm of unstable, undecipherable equations, where events and existence intertwine, untouched by the mundane. Dislocation from the usual choreography of conscious opera led to an alienation that opened a rabbit hole toward the world within and within. Expectation, I realized, was the root of every trouble, an insidious force that could unravel the finest forms of joy. The understanding of the quantum unveiled the ephemeral nature of our existenc