Plenitude, when too plenitudinous, was worse than destitution, for — obviously — what could one do, if there was nothing one could not? - Stanisław Lem

I see a poem as a multi-coloured strip behind peeling plaster, in separate, shining fragments.

cripple God, who always desires more than he’s able to have, and doesn’t always realize this to begin with. Who has built clocks, but not the time that they measure. Has built systems or mechanisms that serve particular purposes, but they too have outgrown these purposes and betrayed them. And has created an infinity that, from being the measure of the power he was supposed to have, turned into the measure of his boundless failure.

We are the cause of our own sufferings.