Not astute, not shrewd, not insightful, not intelligent.
One that is too much for the mind, too much to understand.
Melancholy abrupts thought control, taking over, controlling, breaching a new depth.
It is a time of new regime, a time where jurisdiction is at its utmost.
Now, it must be a collateral age of coming, where the frail is strengthened and the robust is in control.
Down upon us, is either a new age, a new time, a new awakening, or, just another brick in the wall.
No.
Only if possible, it is out of the question.
Today is where we seem to be the most imbecilic yet the most clever at the same time. Howling through, from century to century, there is no depth to be taken into account, we are all merely our own constructions of conduct.
On the counting clock, on the turning away, on the first day of the end, it is simply an error. Unity is divided on what we do together, as one and as only.
Gone is the age of thought and gone is the ideology that we strive for any meaning.
How we are, is how we are.
To who we are, is who we are.
For there is no mind and there is no thought…
