Deep, deep blue. The unfathomable ocean of a complex and troubled genius. A colour torn through and a fire bursting out to consume eternity with its brilliance. Fire-red consuming everything. Objects move as crackling embers; white-hot architecture aglow, bathed in flame.
The horizon is on fire. The sky is a revelation.
He leans back against the station wall, smoking and staring into the divine. Flash-point. God engulfs his very being, evaporating every tedious problem, laying waste to every minutae of pity and sorrow. There is only now; and now the inferno of life burns in his soul.
There are moments in life that lift the burden of truth. Human truth, so fanciful and full of itself. Human truth, so vainly narrating God's infinite complexity. Defiling experience with its story. Defiling life with its language. He feels as lost as a poet.
Clarity is found in the absence of clarity. The deep blue ocean of life is alight with the fire of existance.
And existance is his only certainty.
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