Nonsense thoughts transformed into poetry… Or not…

And suddenly he realized he was in a damn vicious circle. The happiness of this awakening was mixed with the disappointment of knowing that he had not succeeded. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t let go. He felt like the most unhappy person in the world. He knew he couldn’t stay there. He martyred himself and cursed the creators of that paradox. Was there a creator? Wouldn’t he be preaching to himself? He knew he had to get away from there. But he knew that whatever it was would follow him infinitely no matter the distance. The world had the circumference of an orange. He knew that there was no room for hats or snakes that eat elephants… Running away was easy and there was no point. Life would swallow him in the same way and vomit him into this wandering cycle. His only strategy would be to amalgamate his chest with the hardest metal alloy at the price of losing himself completely. But he knew there was no choice. The cycle would always egolimate him… With the same intensity. Over time it would weaken… Maybe enough to become routine and no longer be able to combine it with anything. And again he would be completely lost.

Would he have the courage?