What would happen if things were perfect? If the things I rail against were made straight? What would be left after raging against the machine? I am not sure I have cultivated a consciousness that is aware of the light could present. The darkness seems to be make more sense. The failures of existence make more sense to me. I am not sure what it would like to live in a space other than this one that seems to be sparked by cynicism
No comments:
Post a Comment