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A poetic commentary on aspects of modern physics. I do think that solid facts exist; facts that are possible to test and verify. This text is "just" some reflective ponderings, a bit of flow, on a losely formulated hypothesis.

I figure words is but a space, content to formulate
linger on and contemplate, itself; in all, by its very
own reflections deceived, puzzled and impressed.
A monologue of sorts a polyphonic dialogue, set
to be, continuously rearranged, on a quite precise
and timely scale.



Fri vers av Olof Lagerhorn
Publicerad 2017-02-03 14:22


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