when a though comes out of the diamond-splatter darkness
whole and mature and complete:
It isn't worth it to make sense. Never make sense. Who would want to make sense?
Just don't.
And why would you want to make sense?
When you make sense, people can understand you.
And when they understand you, you loose your soul.
Your thought is no longer "yours," singular,
it is now "yours," plural.
And each thought is part of you, part of your soul.
So don't make sense.
Never make sense.
But do make, whatever you do, do make.
Make a song, make a statement, make a life.
Just make it nonsense.
Because when you make something, you share it with people
they help you hold it
without taking it from you.
And when they do that, it doesn't weigh so much. It doesn't take up so much space.
Which gives you room to make more things.
Poetry.
Statements.
Life.
When you stop making, you die.
But when you always give, you stop existing.
So make, and keep, and share,
and above all,
Never make sense.