Our universe is an amaranthine of nullity infused with murky ink. When it is dark
for what seems like eternity during what we refer to as pregnancy… And then birthing refers
to when our eyes become weak and our mind creates its own world onto the slate. We
begin to see colors, shapes… Change the cold murky ink into warm rays of sun… The
vacant noise becomes a silk thread of your mother’s voice singing a lullaby… The smell of
rubber, cotton, and hand sanitizer… Harsh to your mind, yet clean, and it awakes you.
Congratulate your mind for creating your fortune, for life is what you make it… What you
have deciphered from the murky ink.