In one of my sessions of absentmindedness, I found myself swaying towards thoughts vague and grey,
Contemplating on the essence of life, why it is formed only to be destroyed.
Wounded by an invisible thread, one that connects us so immensely that one’s action reverses to create a reflective response from the other.
The unpredictability of unprecedentedness steadily undermining our perceptions of order and chaos.
What is the essence of life, if only we live to someday die, fading into memory.
Mortality sprouting seeds of purpose as time clearly is an illusion.
Life some say is defined by deeds, actions and their consequences.
But, what if Man isn’t the bigger picture, What if we are just a small part of a much bigger picture.
Emmalase.
Emmalase