I went to a town that did not exist before I wrote these words.
I ate food that I never tasted until this moment.
A child was playing but will never grow older once I leave.
Does even the dream of the butterfly wish to truly fly? To lap the sweet nectar of life?
Perhaps there is nothing outside of this false world, this false life, this false dream.
Nothingness dreamed by nobody for no purpose.
-writings of the wandering Begger Voronum