I love her. I hate her. I live her, but I fear her.
Life.
What does she want from me?
Perhaps a blissful celebration of my impermance.
To reap pleasure for her successor.
Perhaps.
Or perhaps nothing.
Does she care?
My struggle an unimportant event.
An unoriginal and annoying side-effect of the evolving consciousness.
My fears a “babbling of the finite”…
My life itself an empty, shallow, chemical equation merely changing energy from one form to another.
I could be anyone, and she couldn’t care less.
21.05.07
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