Renaissance man
afraid of change -
afraid of the shrines that our ancestors once worshiped.
It’s funny how history often repeats itself
in a way that M-theory can’t predict;
there are some things that the stars themselves
can never understand, yet
they know me more than a lifetime
can render.

Never can be a long time.

Today’s mathematics
remains an ironclad;
tomorrow is one with the past.
My journey begins and ends
as a hedonist: Nostalgia's epoch.

Everything else is an afterthought.

In my dreams, I have counted all of the houses
that my mum and I have hidden in - this chapter
is all I have now:

The promise land is the vehicle
of memory’s alibi.
Last edited by Bleed Away at Feb 4, 2015,