And I will have left Some kind of Mark, Even if all it will be are the mediocre works Of Me. "She tried, but, Her accomplishments are only Barely notable." It's all so laughable.
I look into the white clouds And laugh Until the beads release And drown my imagination. And all that's left of me Is fizzing whizzing whirls Of swirly empty space And explosions. That's all We are, You know?
How dare We believe That We are more Than all there is? Don't you see this fallacy?