Two
it exists above logic, swiftly rewriting scripture that has painstakingly been carved into stone. it seems completely passive in a time of clarity, but rapidly turns malignant when the facade of wholeness dissolves. Logic is re-written, and the very nature of thinking is conglomerated with the impractical and vile. To be genuine is to be shallow, to be intelligent is to be ignorant, and to be aware is to be featureless and empty. Labels crumble at the slightest provocation of a higher interest, displaying their utter irrelevance during the conquest of absolute purpose. Purpose is vindictive and ephemeral, departing from existence with a bow and a tipped hat. You awake in a dark room with no visible features stretching for all eternity. Hope comes in fear crippling you from every angle - temporarily obscuring you from the incomprehensible lack of truth. Hell feels eternal until your third eye blinks and you submerge in pure ambrosia; the room disappearing in the back of your subconscious.