I was born

At that time I was a real philosopher…

I was levitating in the centre of my celestial sphere and was meditating head over heels. My reflections were stitching space like golden threads and were forming subtle intricate patterns. Nothing could disturb my thinking. Only stray stars with majestic manes were drifting by my windows and were illumining walls with a multitude of bright motes…

I was happy. I was absolutely and unconditionally happy. But my happiness was brief. Time had tugged me. I had stabbed space. I was born. I was crying powerlessly. I knew that it is a deception. I knew that it will kill all my recollections about my late happiness. It will turn all my beloved recollections into ruins. I was crying…


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25 thoughts on “I was born

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