In moments, everything will end. Atoms will tear themselves apart.
I set the timer to activate the new math. The formulas will erupt and one plus one will no longer be two. A division with no remainder.
I worried at the fabric of truth, a thread at a time, until all that remained was a bundle of chaos. If you and I couldn’t survive the discovery, what chance does the universe have?
I wonder if I’ll see you after, if after exists. I hope so. I love you.
I’m sorry I’m like this.
The truth is