When the world rubs you the wrong way,
the friction between you and the universe threatens,
demands
promises
to swallow every fiber of your being into a black hole.
It is a dreamily nightmarish concept.
All sensation devoured by a titanic vacuum.
And you ask yourself,
“is there an end to this infinity?”
It has been said that matter can neither be created nor destroyed.
You ask yourself again where it all goes.
“Is there another world,
like our own,
made entirely of the shards of broken hopes and dreams,
the ones belonging to the others trapped in this abyss?”