There’s always the risk of becoming successful.
Even while performing efficiently, optimised and cohesively I must be aware of the darker bit of more, the further glance of hypothesis, the simple fate of glitter, the charged eyes of misery, the pocket filled with pockets of pockets, the loop, the hole, the absence, oblivion, obsolescence, nostalgia.
These predicates of lost faith are only the residue of experienced rationality – surely condemned in the eternal question of my self expression and magical thoughts – unaccessible to many as if the plague was upon me.
The dual layer, no longer competing, between conscience and sub conscience, it’s feeding a furnace of visions and melted gold. The value, the treasure, the gold, is always those around, those who believe and deliver. I’m just the glow, the one that cannot fade with patina.
The large breath of awareness is made true with success and measured in scales of nothing real, then I stopped and built the world, again.
the MONSTRUKTOR