There is a mess of sin yew pushing from under this membrane.
It's a game beneath my skin they say. We want a race! The first to the top wins salvation!!
Ignoring them proves useless.
I've grown out of myself. No longer fitting inside.
The closer I get to nothing, the more of everything I receive.
It's a well restricted chaos. Nothing of what it is and everything of the same thing.
I'm building up for something great. Shhh.
Creating an end. Constructing an exit.
Exiting the construction site. Ending the creation.
Mirrors reflecting mirrors.
Images of images.
Scenes of scenes.
It's the unit circle at 0 and 360 degrees. Meeting.
The secret is that for completion there must be destruction.
For the perfect life, all life must stop.
The end is defined by the end.