Notes (Ramblings)

This is the story of a boy
Whose reflection was made of antimatter.
One day he slipped his hand into
The mirror
And then the other
And then his legs
And then his face
And one by one
His molecules were
Burning up all our happiness chasing something so destructive and fluid as money.

I want to live my life in hypotheticals.

Imagine if you could melt the planets and drink them like cups of tea or smoothies. Put the liquids in a dispenser and we could just mix and match the flavours to get a perfect blend. We could freeze portions of it, make some ice cream. Sprinkle some stardust and top it off with a rounded chunk of the moon.

Satisfying my cravings
Feeding my desires.
Cytosolic concentrations.

Still air,
I’m still there


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