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Journal Journal: A poem from last saturday

Let the cold and wet earth open its womb -
from chaos, into chaos, we fly.
Let the cold entropy freeze
and spread all my pain into
a thousand icy crystals - nevermore to exist
in my reality - nevermore to exist,
but as dissolving traces of life
unto the heat death of the universe.
Let the zero point fluctuations drown out
the beating of my broken heart -
past, present, and future -
maybe if it never was, and never will be
in this light cone,
the light fantastic -
the light beyond the darkness -
will shine and freeze the pain.

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I don't want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve immortality through not dying. -- Woody Allen

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