I Express Myself Through Writing

The Universe is all I've got left. After Dark Matter has consumed my Me behind. This bizarre dark ingredient that feels sad and lonely, in all senselessly lifeless existence, is too dark and too deep to feel anything. Not allowing to emit light or even energy, and yet, I am going to create my own galaxies and stars, in my own Universe, where I can be Me, even surrounded by Black Holes. I will. I will become visible to the Light again, breathing again, shaping my Universe as I breathe, in the rhythm of my heartbeat. I will exist. In the coma of my silent stillness where my Me will find its own existence. Living, without any telescopes to prove me wrong.