Our loopy ironic lives
The irony is we will never know, yet we search. Incomplete, usually desiring what we cant have, creating what destroys us, speaking when silence is answer, reasoning when unconscious is key. Here we are alive, or so we think, only to die in the unknown ever changing loopy depth of it all.
o<3l ~ 5.10.2017
As Above So Below, No Soul Shall Go Unknown.
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