The Little Things Are What Is Eternal,

The Chains That Bind Us The Most Closely Are The Ones We Have Broken.

Sometimes At Night I Light A Lamp So As Not To See.

Every Time I Wake, I Understand How Easy It Is To Be Nothing.

All The Suns Labor To Kindle Your Flame And A Microbe Puts It Out.

Without This Ridiculous Vanity That Takes The Form Of Self-display, And Is Part Of Everything And Everyone, We Would See Nothing, And Nothing Would Exist.