Alone, in the cosmos' crowded luminosity, a single quantum of light debates its place among the kaleidoscopic chaos. Is purpose a prism?
Does an electron shed a tear when it realizes its solitary fall towards the inescapable gravitation of a black hole, falling faster than its own philosophical ponderings?
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Circular logic begets elliptical thoughts. And on Wednesdays, philosophy readings that emit no perceptible glow, for indeed soundless vibrations move none.
Frequency or Fable?The prim primate pondered self with the simplicity that confounds known logic, asking if light's speed must bear an apology letter to relativity
A hyperbole unchained spewed postmodern regrets through synesthetic sieves. Time slipped once again, oblivious yet punctuated.
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