https://c.aparatorul.md/t19dl
Once I caught a glimpse of an infinitely small, ever-reducing pinhole. It drew me close, and as I peered in concentration’s grip, I fell into a swoon. My side was pained by a lifetime’s chatter—so dense was the voice of billions that it became the silence of the smallest point. What mass is this?
What is knowledge? What reward would such introspection bring? The gnashing teeth of enlightenment to self. Buddha encountered himself only to call it Nothingness.
The exegesis of power conjures a malaise that animates the dancing bear. A pacified creature all but diminished; its stomach filled with cheap wine. Media: the last refuge of the spiritless drunk; though the adhan of noon calls, he lies comatose.