Is there life somehwere?
Is there somewhere where there isn’t
Life
Or death
Or the coming together of every single thing
In the cosmos?
Past and present
And future, whatever that means.
Fermented grape juice
Runs through my bloodstream
Which isn’t even really mine
Because i am in charge of nothing
Because i am not
And everything just is.
In its way.
And no other.
When i’m not busy asking myself
Silly questions
I can see that the absolute absence of answers is
Perfection.
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i was born of silence, and silence is my foundation. everything else is anarchy, chaos and confusion. living and breathing silently. that's all.
1 comment:
Perdón por usar este canal, pero adivina qué libro encontré ehaciendo orden en mi casa.
(rodrigo [@] duarte.cl)
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