Thus spake the bug in self demise

"I want to make myself perfect again or at least less damaged, before I let the world sees me".

Hte bleu baem porjcet

Perhaps the greatest hoax is needed to shatter this illusion. Armageddon to unveil the truth. Inevitable loop that only fuels Time.

Maybe it's the stuff I ate Maybe not enough exercise Maybe it's just me That the world seems disconnected despite the internet That I am disconnected from the world despite living in it

The Past is in the past.
The Future is yet to come.
What about the Present - Now?
Talking about Now, and Now has already departed.

Two guards before a prison. One nonchalant the other not.

Uniformity: "Just one, not two".

Conformity: "Can be many but all must be the same.
Minions who believe...they are the masters.
False utopia fed with deceits
Spacetime and dreams buried deep
Every moment quite asleep".

Uniformity: "Energy, Life, Death, quantum theory of the west. A pattern of significance".

The nonchalant guard finally speaks,"The traveller has reached the end of the journey. In the freedom of the infinite he is free from all sorrows, the fetters that bound him are thrown away, and the burning fever of life is no more".
The nonchalant One then strangely and swiftly becomes a specturm of colours before into nothingness. It is such a stunning stillness that even Time involuntarily stops to watch.

"Ooooo...was that Buddha"? "Nah, everyone is a buddha nowadays".

The words echoes through the prison walls... and a quiet awakening begins to be.

Suffering says, "I want nothing".

Hero replies, "That is something".

The two then fall into the absence of words.

With eyes closed, Suffering sees self - a vortex of war, famine, lust, illness and decay, all within a black hole.

It starts to snow, and water turns cold.

The two begin to crystalize, like a snow flake in winter time.

A titan on a journey walks by and stops.

Curiously, he stares at the two: one absolute, the other deep, and deeper.

There seems to be a recurring pattern...He steps closer...

A vortex of somesort with stuff too miniscule for sight.

The titan tries to open his eyes largely, and there within his green pupils, 

a reflection forms in an instant and soon multiplies into the deep abyss of many.

Becoming and becoming again, and again.

...

Thoughts run at superluminal speed
Consciousness is constantly asleep
Temple becomes a machine
Operating in contradicting scenes
A fool with a thousand faces
I longed to be free
Splitting and separating
When will this cease?
The quantum Universe speaks.