E.X.I.S.T.

E.verlasting,
X.
I.s
S.omething
T.rivial



With a trembling silence tiptoeing in my bones; the bending light criss-crossing, zig-zagging about my physique and all that entails it; the perforations of my integument perspiring a soulful sweat, dripping into a pool of memory; I breathe an endless cycle of exchanging glances--gawking stares, everlasting. X, representing an endless entity of commodities so unimaginable, is something totally trivial; so perpetually indifferent to us that, in sense, we perceive it as real.