Reset.
Here is our way out:
If we are pierced by the eye of a needle, it is to make us pop. Let out your haughty air and grow small. Forget your accomplishments and break the past. If we are not alive today, we are not living.
If we are going to be different, we will be first made nothing. Every leaf is a brother to the others among it, but one trunk cannot say to the other that they even know eachother. The seeds are the beginning of this.
To grow again, our nothingness must be decadent. It is a short while we will spend in that state before we are made whole. To the fullest extent, we will be constructed. Out of our new bones we will blossom reverent petals.
And these things I proclaim; by words they are come into being. In the end we will be responsible for every word and every moment. These are here to be solidified (the thoughts are hardly of use if they spill into the seas before they can be drunk from, or perhaps forever eaten).
