Sometimes, I look the same stone of light that other people also look for. But, truth is that we are earth hidden within the mines of space. If there was knowledge there’d be no action. I fear the pause, the allotted time. It sinks, truthfully. I know we cherish the denial of our times. Like young nihilists. I dug for truth, through turd and stink. Emptiness. Holes. Awakening. There is nothing. We’ve dug holes, nothing more; philosophical pits.From the beginning permanently remains only the perplexity, in the life of bewilderment absolute is the paradoxical irony.
The horizon alights like a dormant lip.
The most important thing of the day
was not seen but felt.
Joy was not in me but around me.
Like a pool of emotion, I drift from
one spill to another. Joy. Boredom. Dread.
I’ve been wandering the whole day. Looking
at things as if they were rocks covered in moss.
The clouds were protagonists .
They are immobile, the city below balloons in ripples.
The line between the lips swallows the light,
the waves and the purpose.
A delicate gulp. Swollen with twilight.
One single nerve aches.
The one whose function
is to sense life.