The rules of chaos, a contradiction in terms, express themselves in poetry, express themselves in art, but they don’t waste their time trying to refashion the human mind, they sneakily bend around it, hiding behind truths, behind half-organized concepts, behind the things we take for granted.
Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a little girl received an angel decoration. She couldn’t remember who it was that gave it to her, or on what Christmas Eve that was, but every year since she would look at the little angel and make a wish.
Some phenomena are not about themselves. They take you one level, one dimension down into the substance of things, they are measurements of change, gauges of the inner workings of the world, consequences of movement.
People see life as a logical sequence of actions and consequences, inside which one makes plans for the foreseeable future, maybe the following year, or decade, but how do you plan a life that’s dealt in days which have no connection with each other?
He lived for a day.