I've heard you can't really be aware of beauty,
or even appreciate it appropriately, unless you have seen true darkness.
Nightmares are my darkness.
Breaching celestial planes of status quo, to visit worlds of twisted ideals, distorted only by our own personal quandries,
Dreams are my quandries,
Warped by the mind's natural requirement, to analyze the events of previous solar rotations, invisible magicians spinning swirling marble feats of grandeur, existing in simultaneous seconds revolving within yet another magician's palm, at speeds where a lifetime goes by with a giant, CRUNCH.
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