1 Minute

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Attempt 1:

Time is stress

Attempt 2:

The universe is round and fabric is flat. The mind is concaved and the spirit 2-dimensional.

Attempt 3:

Silencer. Through. Pain. True. Trees. The compulsion is only to rhyme. What thoughts come that are not rhythmic and yet can be true. I do not know.

Attempt 4:

This is trying. I don't know when thought comes and when it ends. I have no control and yet can act; I can perceieve yet do not know where reflection emerges from. This is all reflex. There is nothing true in it. Maybe nature may pass as breeze. But the windows annre closed and it cld in here

Attempt 5:

Goddamn. 1 more try. I think I'm cheating. All writings made in the past. It flows in the present wehen you allow it, moulds the future if you let it try it. The scary thing about that notion is that too quickly it fails. Transcribinig the past is a matter of prescence and in precence you witness the depth of the darkness, the imposssiblity of unknoing and failure to