what is this? who are you? who am I? Who are you to be askin me who i am.? I am me, now who are you.? I am me, but not you -me. I am my own me or from your perspective i'm my own you? who am I?
.Question the Questioned.
An endless ocean, a scentless vision.
A mirage in the desert of halucination's. The leper left to his own demise.
expanding,yet never refracting.
The only known existence for our atomic hero.
makeshift spiral's, endeavored with conscice science of belief.
relative only to this single dimension of idiom.
analytical in the sense that anything is sense.
reverberation on, vibration's off.
above,below,and beyond our means to our end's.
What if only for an attosecond.
you had no constant and it was at that exact.
that showed you that you, and only you are constant.
never always and everplanning.
this thermotempered reactor.
waiting to release it's energy freely.
the smoke will always billow.
the uphill battle of nothing and something.
this is the conformity of confineing in other's.
bouncing off eachother's structure.
And yet we will never realize that a texture,
such as two will never be more than a texture of.
blind in the belief that we know all....
even if we accept we know nothing.
An ellegance long past, a diety long forgotten. more figment than imagination. Our own personal paradox of spiral's. , a true court of poly-synth. a martyr left to grow his tree.
captured yet released, open yet encompassed. ensnared on the idea of a multiversial existence. algorithums upon algorithiums, of allagatory innocence. if only for nothing more than to expand our own mind's. prejudized injustice, show's only a single vibration of color. and still we open our mouth's to speak of such a language.