{destiny}
we're all stuck in a puzzle, an almost ceasless cycle of questions that we must answer for ourselves. the imposing challenger, time is hanging on our heads, mocking us as we try to evade our deaths.
however, there are some, unlike the most, who are willing to have their beating hearts finished. they do not wish to endure the utter complexity of the puzzle we are all in.
when we are to fall is not our decision to make. it never will be, because what we all are destined for, the end, is already there. it is marked in the story we all supposedly written.
{infinity}
change is the only thing inscribed within the context of infinity. what lies further from it has been obscured from us, even since the existence of our species in this plethora of galaxies has been made.
{space}
this space overwhelms me, there is still so much that is still waiting to be uncovered. our problems are almost nothing then. maybe the primary reason why we aren't being heard is because we are being put aside as the sheer vastness of this entire universe exceeds us. there is always something more to everything, and that's quite something to think about.
i guess it means that we are more than what we think we are.
YOU ARE READING
Catharsis
Poesiaca·thar·sis [kuh-thahr-sis] noun, plural ca·thar·ses [kuh-thahr-seez] 1. the purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, especially through certain kinds of art, as tragedy or music. Poetry #62 / Random #130 © Copyrighted, All...
