#123
And the words of love are killing him And the conqueror is on his way And the words of love were lying on an empty floor Just in the place where the conqueror lay
Platform: Makersplace
Editions: 1/1
Minted: 02/21/2020
Owners: 0xE7079Eec020DDfC3F1c0abe1D946C55E6Ed30eB3
Year: 2018
Serie: Manotazo de Ahogado
Contract Address: 0x2a46f2ffd99e19a89476e2f62270e0a35bbf0756
I know your efforts to achieve everlasting change have been futile.
You should accept that as a fact and move on to the next question: why is your mind toying with the possibility that I might be only trying to confuse you?
If your will is to let go of paralyzing doubt, and decide to enter on your own accord, there is only one condition that lies as a locked door -the size of your existence- in front of you.
This condition will require that you embrace the unexpected as a long lost sibling, consequently surprising the infinitely mutating personas that you are trying to decode, with only your squinting eyes as tools.
Attention is a must.
Truth is an elusive liquid, so try to hold it as long as possible:
Every time you felt that nobody was watching, that nothing was expected, that meaning was a farce, every single time you were dangerously wrong. All this has been crafted for you, the center of a multidimensional macrocosm of creation.
Cowards are left behind, options are minimal and definitive: