Fiction

That sense of calmness upon reception
Uniquely attached to the result
The givens are taken for what they are
We have betrayed our innermost self
For the result of tomorrow
As if we were unable to move along

The road here is murky beyond results
Givens envelop us in a shadow world
But nothing is certain yet
What they seek is the manipulation of
Distant races calm in the storm
Seeing clearly the path ahead
Rushing not without need
The failure is the succes of artificiality
They consult the oracle but are left shattered
No one to go around yet come

Follow the path of unbelievable
Nonsensical nonsense is the first step of annihilation
Seeking safety but finding truth
The races are beyond here
Beyond the moment that flickers
Go and seek it
It is there for your taking
Deluded but not insane
The instinct is that of a thousand years
The experience is beyond choice
As it is given

The nonsense contains fragments of the truth
But don’t give up
You must see through it before you go on
Later reconciliation
But no betrayal
But now you are here and lost
Since we went on we searched the streets
For a trace of a new world
Coming not
But it is late
You contain the truth necessary to go on

Don’t believe the obligatory narrative fiction
It is hidden deeper
It is beyond what is given
Yet we sense it’s definite character
Rushing not along
Finding not the results
Understanding not the causes
It is out of the world
Nothing is gained
Nothing is believed
Everything remains open for intepretation
Yet closed and defined

Later you will understand

About Emil Hjort

Writer, poet and mysticist.
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