thorn
There are
millions of routes to approach life. From the side of nothingness, you can be approaching it forever and never reach any
aspect of the potential innumerable.
We, in
particular, arrested in the claws of space and time, the two beasts of decay,
cannot utter a single word about the sights on this side of the finite.
Astonishment, bafflement,
like a thorn in one’s flesh, does not cease to tag along us, at our heels all
the time, on the wings of the backward transience.
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