18 Mar 2005

I have imagined that I have seen far, once or twice, that I peered beyond the veil that holds the stars in place. It was most probably illusion, I am of tendency to judge, for these things I have thought seemed the stuff of angels. Perhaps, too, I am inclined to dismiss them in that if such sublime reflections were of substance true, how on my shoulders would there be weights of grand responsibility. But I remember how I have sat, flying high on no drug but a vision of some mathematical automata, how I have felt a nausea of fear in what I could possibly create — not because of anything wrong, but that these ideations so boldly ventured into territories so unknown. Perhaps, in the end, they will come to nothing, but even to have been there, experiencing such desperate hope that revolution was in my breath: I die having truly lived.

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:04 am

No Comments »

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Leave a comment

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.