I dissent therefore I exist. What is this substance called certainty? My hesitation is stitched from embroidered corollary. Delusions are dreamy. Colours are for romantic visionaries. Drama queens can kiss my ass. I am a hermetic and harmonic of quiet exuberance. I effervesce on the inside. I come for the experience. Sometimes it’s in the shape of a storm. I am two faced, my names are Dysnomia to those I trust and Eunomia to the uninitiated. Discover my seeming duplicity for the green pastures it tends with the changing seasons. Now repeat the words "I don't exist" over and over until the words lose all meaning becoming guttural utterances unintelligible to all ears. There are more than two. Momentarily forget your languages, deny your own names. Close your eyes and regain the gift of language and remember the word death.Death is a compliment.
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