Ain't a beginning.
Or an end to it.
The preface to nothing. The beginning of a big hollowness.
I want to put my finger on it nevertheless.
We take the beating to live through everyday.
And each day - we wait for the big thing to happen.
To arrive.
We wait our entire lives for nothing to happen.
When does it arrive?
When does it really happen? It's all a preparation for..?
But then again. It'd be a big cliche to say that the present is all we have to live for.
We have much more. We have nothing.
On the same continuum of thinking in terms of illusions.
I stopped making sense.
Long ago.
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