When I have nothing to type, I type a random sentence and it always begins with phrase: “The world is”.
I’m obsessed with with the world.
I have made myself a part of it after it made itself a part of me.
The world is beautiful and terrible.
It is composed of human beings and will certainly die if they die.
All that will be left will be the planet and the creatures.
For the world is predicated on human ideas.
While the planet and it’s many creatures are predicated on the existence of the material universe.