the sound of brahms’s symphony. the deputation of my own entity to expose the mere human potential. there is more to life than this unexpected zilch. as of this moment, the stupendous void has once again invoked its imaginary lethe into my system. i am lost, ostensibly unable to unleash this power that only a few could seek. this world is just an imaginary plane. i see wafts of solemness and sparks of sporadically intertwined intervals gouging my precarious cortex.
and this is what we pen as another elixir of rainmaking. the vivacity of the this earth. an underdeveloped array of words, linked together to incapacitate the monogamous social entry. the purpose is to redefine our thoughts, our feelings, and our own permission to overlook our own weaknesses.
to teach is to be disciplined to oneself. there are other ways of attaining interaciveness amongst ourselves. the means, however, do not present themselves expediently. we have to find it, through time.
ever heard of emerson’s oversoul? i found this text from an unlaunched website project a couple years ago.