By human calculation, a thousand ages taken together form the duration of Brahmā's one day. And such also is the duration of his night.

By these calculations the life of Brahmā seems fantastic and interminable, but from the viewpoint of eternity it is as brief as a lightning flash. In the there are innumerable Brahmās rising and disappearing like bubbles in the Atlantic. Brahmā and his creation are all part of the material universe, and therefore they are in constant flux.

-- Bhagavad-gītā As It Is 8.17

when i first published Untitled on wattpad, i planned on killing myself by the end of the month.

however, somewhere along the way, i wrote my four hundredth poem.

as soon as you've set it in your mind that you should stop writing poems your kinky muse breaks through the window.

you learn to jot down the ideas as they hit you -- in the metro, walking home at midnight, awake at 2am, the rooftops of Paris, the top deck of cruise ship... also at midnight. i wrote a lot of these at midnight.

that's it. that's the whole collection. a gigantic mess, a journey, call it what you like. it's been a blast.

now, the next journey begins...

"It's creepy, but here we are, the Pilgrims, the crackpots of our time, trying to establish our own alternate reality. To build a world out of rocks and chaos.

What it's going to be, I don't know.

Even after all that rushing around, where we've ended up is the middle of where in the middle of the night.

And maybe knowing isn't the point.

Where we're standing right now, in the ruins in the dark, what we build could be anything."

-- Chuck Palahniuk, Choke