Inner darkness hides his name.
Turmoil surrounds it.
We can ask, and kneel or bow or dance,
To phrase the question,
To approach the edge of the dark that hides,
And only try to see his shape,
Outlined in shadow, nameless,
It exists without time, eternal.
Be seduced by the question,
What is your name?
How can we transcend?
Our limitations are gross.
I'm an author.
We can say by metaphysics that our lives are planned and predictable, though seeing the events and situations in our lives in the reality of what they are ontologically there is no interpretation of them that implies greater meaning. From a nihilistic point of view we do not have any lives and there is no meaning. So this is about my views on life.
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