You chase me in the torrent of night.
You say that anything is possible. In this possibility
You lead me to the madness and fragility of existing.
Night is always a bad counselor.
If the night is of whores, poets and madmen
So I, in myself, conjugate these three scenarios;
In a single existence and fragility.
The whore celebrates the Philosophy of human freedom.
The poet tears the novelty with the caress of a pen.
The madman travels in the reverie of a sensitive dissertation.
Me: I am the composition of a fragmentation reading.
I do not know what I write. The only certainty I have is about your existence.
You confuse me and throw me into the abyss where there is an existential vortex –
Who holds me in a cell with no door and a powerful white wall.
I let myself be led by this proposal – I am the God of the Universe.
CARTER B. REY