Sothatdreamswillseem
Registered User
I know that there is and that incomprehensibility is such, ergo truth is that we are all that is. I know that god is truly beauty, that beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder. Cogito ego sum ignorantium, I think therefor I am ignorant, I am haunted by the stillness of everyday life. Faced with deception, the face of fear the face of god, we are entrenched in providence.
To whom is the worth of what is willed worthwhile?
To whom is the worth of what is willed worthwhile?