Yesterday,after I had returned home and had lunch ; I was lazily staring at the sky through the window.I couldn't remember the last time I looked at the sky for the sake of the sky - outside and inside.And before I knew it,I was muttering that I would like to fade,fade away like pastel sketches because only by fading is that we mark our existence and it comes...limitless.
It was when I wrote what I was efforfully muttering then,all absorbed and perhaps weird,as I later feel after these stages are gone.
I wish it had turned into something worth reading,I have no idea what it is.
It was when I wrote what I was efforfully muttering then,all absorbed and perhaps weird,as I later feel after these stages are gone.
I wish it had turned into something worth reading,I have no idea what it is.
The Origin of Existence 2
Sometimes I like to fade away
From contexts,from perceptions
Because then existence returns
It returns like errors,like time
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