"maybe the world was afterall a faulted whisper at the edge of nothing..

maybe the world and the realities in it are made up off numbers.

maybe the world is an illusion hoisted firmly in the mind of humans..

maybe the world is a container of mortality; that somewhere out there there is another container of immortality.

was the world born out of desperation?

was the need to exist so immense?

are we really existing.."

these questions floated around his weary mind as he sat in his study with a pen in his trembling and a voice in in mad head..