I don't know what it holds, I never did.

Although I can't traverse past the speed of light, of late I've been wondering what lies beyond this point. My journey to the west has triggered this feeling; the complement of nostalgia.

Strangely, I can hear the whispers from the other side in the chaotic and cacophony-ridden west. The beauty of a cosmopolitan.

I'm positive. The sounds are telling, like music from the Congo; Beautiful.

It's true. We live in Schrodinger's paradox.

But these sounds are telling.