Crematoryy
Wandering endlessly
- Feb 12, 2025
- 166
To exist is to be confined within one's own world, locked in a cell not made of bars, but of the very essence of reality. I am a hostage to the structure of the real — invisible limits from which I cannot escape. Subjugated by the architecture of existence. I discover that the world around me is not a refuge, but an extension of this prison. Every tree, every stone, every house merely reflects the impossibility of escape.
Here, in this relentless domain, I am both observer and prisoner — part of a mechanism that does not feel, does not think, and does not cease. Gears that grind the being without any regard for the desire or pain they inflict. And so I continue to exist, not by choice, but because existence itself does not bend to my will nor to my weariness. I am but a point of consciousness lost within a greater machine — insensible, eternal, and indifferent.
Here, in this relentless domain, I am both observer and prisoner — part of a mechanism that does not feel, does not think, and does not cease. Gears that grind the being without any regard for the desire or pain they inflict. And so I continue to exist, not by choice, but because existence itself does not bend to my will nor to my weariness. I am but a point of consciousness lost within a greater machine — insensible, eternal, and indifferent.
