Events form and evaporate spontaneously so that only their remnants survive. Objects, contradictory and inclusive, battle for domination and eventually annihilate each other. No light could ever pierce between two events as they are bound incontrovertibly; concomitant and co-existing. There are no free turns, or liberty, from causes to speak of as all matter of existence is in lockstep with itself; is uncontrollably controlled and formed to never fall from contiguity. What replaces a space is new space, and every moment must die and be reborn. Ideas, notions, desires, are all connected and feed off each other like wolves ripping through the flesh of a dying beast whose last breaths dwindle into silence. The only sounds soon heard are meat being yanked from bones, and the heavy breathing of the pack as they fill themselves with blood and organs; a feeding frenzy.
Those who proclaim change are hunters of men, misanthropic acolytes who’ve descended from a dark world and come to reap the spoils of their sardonic rhapsody. The mere presence of their spirits is more a deceitful rhythm and incidental contrivance, as they mesmerize the feeble and turn their minds toward their malevolent agenda.
The dying herd, making space for the new, living out their shallow lives in the desert of their folly, never noticing the shallowness of their thoughts which fall between the unseen pockets of an incomprehensible cause, fill their buckets with the waters of these change-makers, and drink until the buckets are empty and the well water mixes with the blood of their wounds and the lifeless residue of their spirits.
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