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Creation has become so broad, there’s no emptiness. Everything swarms and seethes. The void has destroyed itself; creation is its wound, we are its drops of blood, the world is the grave in which it rots.
Creation has become so broad, there’s no emptiness. Everything swarms and seethes. The void has destroyed itself; creation is its wound, we are its drops of blood, the world is the grave in which it rots.
