The value of something is in the lack of it.
As more is perceived, less is the value of the perceived.
Because value is lack of perception, then the unknown has more value than anything.
And value is nothing more than identity transfer,
from one to anything or nothing.
Anónimo
O que hoje é fortuna amanhã será miséria,
O que hoje é sorte amanhã será ciência,
O que hoje é matéria amanhã será etérea,
O que hoje é sanidade amanhã será demência.
Anónimo
lack of sleep makes you wonder why,
makes you see the sky,
and through the candle of vision,
you can even die.
i tell ye the Wall is not thick,
it just makes you believe,
wondrous fauna and flora in the antipodes,
makes you think you're meek.
- as so : ramblings
division of labour,
for the morphing of a caterpillar,
for the greater good, displeased is your queen.
grant some requests to the blown,
save the plainest of them all.
survive yourself from Yourself,
from your entrails unknown.
judge the crack on the wall of a building,
blame the frantic and the apathetic ants in your palm,
protest against the feeder and the feeding.
infect yourself with this balm,
be sure to kill all the vermin.
Anónimo
There's a problem with one race of beings,
a not so far planet full of bipeds,
that have gained conscience and thought,
and became thinking and thought about the duality,
Good and Evil; not bad, seen worst.
The problem is that they soon started to see thinks this way:
"what if the evil was good and the evil was good?"
Well, thinking about these things is still fine, however...
What if?? Why not, "Maybe the evil is good and the good is evil."
Not a question, a possibility, an affirmation.
They continued with this "what if", and they started using it in every occasion.
"what if this didn't happen?"; "what if this won't happen?"
The problem aggravates because these beings start to think to much and act to little.
Their heads start to get big and their bodies weak.
Their reaction starts to get as good as a frog's.
Well maybe they'll boil to dead,
maybe they'll sink into the water that made them,
maybe they'll transform into what they intend:
A being of all thought and no action.
Maybe they'll disappear.
The Universe doesn't tolerate locusts.
Anonimous Observatory
