Updating time has come. The star sheds the cover As an old skin. Long before this moment All has been predetermined. Event giving rise other event. Your life is mean. There are no variants. There is no choice. Only consciousness of the insignificance is possible. Those who thought they were exclusive, Conscious of the fast end.
Soon all will change. One all-absorbing flash. Whirlwind of an uncontrollable substance Will erase familiar outlines of the world. Visible chaos is only illusion.
Evolution in destruction. Unprecedented plays of light and forms are born. Whoever this great projector may be, He had a sense of beauty.
Some instants which cannot be realized. Billions of voices have together let out cry and broken off.
Fly away. Feel freedom. Earlier unknown easiness. Fly, in hopes to disappear, leave far away from a dead star.
In the lifeless world of freedom the star will start burning again. From isolated particles planets will be created. Fugitives will be caught in a network of laws of the creator. And probably again there will be those, whose sense is minimum.
This is the great product of the spoilt mind. Tiny copy of something greater.