reflection about the void

 









I was the place where I was inventing a not produced sense of life. I was that never place completely known. It is like a beginning that does not go ahead, like something that remakes in the same waves of the day. It is not yesterday that it is falling into this now — it does not have importance. What catches is the thing, the nave of the place, the mirror of being an answer before the question To be present. The Nothing collection is the absolute void. Only the forms remain. Today, I do not have any idea about the space I am from the existence of things, a reflection.


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