The froth of the ocean is warmer to the touch than the still water
It crackles against my palm and leaves behind its
residue when receding back in on itself.
!['[Why do people die as volume...]', by Mykyta Ryzhykh](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59aef3bacd39c38dabcb0dc2/1720499139764-4849B0NIDDZGFZZJ5CT2/Screenshot+2024-07-08+at+23.24.21.png)
The night never ends anywhere. There are only two of us: me and death. I am always alone. Conscious death does not exist: however, as well as conscious life.
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The revolution still waits for us.
The friend with open arms
Is still smiling.
I remember sunflowers inside out. Ripened roots accompanied by leaves and
the leaving.
Close your eyes
and see it,
know what I tell you is true.
“Dormant doesn’t exist – dead is dead!”
to which Jahweh said,
“You old devil, what’s wrong with your head?
Only Nietzsche is dead.”
Which was liked by all
and shared by many.