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Normality becomes normal when time arrives

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I cannot contemplate myself from the outside

  I intend to follow this line until I reach the end. There is no other purpose for these words than to exist on the page and remain moving forward, intentionally, creating a shape which may or may not have a purpose. I intend to remain here, now, knowing -intuiting -that it is unnecessary to have purpose, when the sole intention is to create beauty. Beauty has no meaning. Beauty cannot have a purpose. Beauty only exists for the one (the lucky one) who is able or willing to perceive it. Is this beautiful? how can I know? I cannot contemplate myself from the outside and therefore I am unable to perceive my beauty. I am, however, able (and willing) to believe I am beautiful; and because beauty lies within the eyes of whoever believes something is beautiful there is no way to contradict this sentence: I am beauty. I am beautiful. I have all the necessary components that make anything beautiful. I resemble the sunset, a teardrop, a building, a fly, an expression, a written sentence, ti...

Am I happening now?

  Am I happening now? Do I exist when nobody is able to perceive me? Am I here if you are not here with me? And what is it that I am when I am only a text that nobody is following? Could I wear a different body? Oh! how I wish I had a face!... how I wish I had a place upon myself called the cheek or a scar! How I wish I could be sometimes round, others straight. Oh, how I wish I had other shapes or forms! I could have ears or places called antennas. I would use them to call out to you: hey! …hello! And if you reply… Would I be able to listen to your response? I guess my ears would be useless then. So why would I want them? I am a text. I can only perceive reality through the lens pro vided by the stream of words as they flow on top of the page , arriving only to the following sentence, which is happening here, now, as I believe I could actually be part of a face on a different reading, another dimension or way of understanding; one which I am unable to perceive but willing to imagi...