Absolute Hunch
Am the string.
Oscillating discretely,
The sways of pattern,
Calling for elation,
To come happen...
Am now a probability.
Never discrete, yet,
A contradictory distinction,
True absolutism,
And not a fiction...
Am a void...conclusively.
For within me persists everything,
And for i resemble nothing,
For i am all material,
Yet am not a thing...
None.
Am just...I.
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