Living in the pocket of the universal rhythm, while blasphemous thoughts prime our mental disposition, matters not to the fates of whom we can’t betray, ‘cause at the end of the day, everything goes their way –

– freaked out by synchronicities as they tempt us with belief in more than scientific wisdom which can not be deceived – either way, belief or not, matters not to the truth, which goes on existing independent of proof –

– but embracing reason as our guiding light creates a world that must have both day and night, both right and wrong, both hate and love, and still we’ll blame duality on a judge from above.



Painting our illusions in 108 words a day.


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