It’s all so clear to me. So irresistibly indescribable. Putting it into words seems above me. Somewhere out of my reach. How could it be within reach? It… it feels so good. To experience nothing, let it wash over you. It all almost makes sense, and perhaps it does. The meaning. It’s so close. Calmly. It’s nice after all. So cold and crisp and clear. A beautiful noise followed by an insufferable silence. Deafening silence. Horridly creative silence. Such beautiful songs. The parts more bitter than the pleasant whole. It never ceases to amaze. A cacophony of motion, all things in perfect alignment. Such a nonsensically rigid order. Surges of light in the tide of emotion. It hurts. It hurts in a good way, the way that makes you question why it felt good. It wasn’t pain. Was it? Hours since then. How could it have been? Mere minutes an eternity of bliss. An orchestra of thoughts. A symphony of questions! A fork in the road leads to two more. Clearer now. When will it end? I’ll not know anytime soon. A dream not yet had, but lingering in the past. Dwelling into mere consequence. Still more. But why?
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