A chain is only as strong as it’s weakest link, they say. Breath, the transit of inorganic air through our organic existence, is our weakest link. Life is our weakest link. A link so weak that most of us spend our entire lives taking care of this link rather than putting the chain to actual use.

Chains are strong, yet mortal. They have their breaking points. They are made to serve until those breaking points are tipped. Oh God, I wish to be that chain which serves the universe at any level until it looses itself, not the chain obsessed of keeping itself intact. Because ultimately both shall vanish. One with stress, the other with rust. Ah!! Rust, the punishment of attempts of self-preservation, the divine enforcement of mortality. Rust!!


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