Absurd Chaos

what is the truth. The revelation  the Illumination,  How can it be found, where, when and why.  Through the sky in springtime  flowers rise to greet the sun. Sits a girl  on a hill smiling ablaze  with sun fire fire sun. The illumination is the sun even in the moon is the sun.  Sun is dead and vividly  alive. Manifestoes of the sun, it's here has always  been  near, the sun burns an ode to fire the sun kisses  an ode to love the sun rises  an ode to tree the sun sets an ode to death.

Velvet skies and purple dreams. We all dream; even if we don’t remember, we all do. It’s our internal language, a language that precedes all languages, an ancient form of communication, the oldest miscommunication. It’s inherent, it’s physical, it’s visceral. It’s ours and it’s us. The purest form of an “I”. Yet, we let a trivial and empty thing called “practical life” get in the way of Nature’s monologue.

When I knew how much I could know yet how little; I stopped wanting to know; how could you attain infinite knowledge when you're just a finite being? How could you handle living with the need of drying oceans and only succeed at drinking half a puny lake? When I knew how little I could ever know; my heart cried and my soul dried its tears; for the suffering is ever in the interest of my soul