PhenethylTrypta
Bluelighter
This prose is more than just a vague, intentionally mysterious selection of writing. It's an experimental, if you want to even call it this, poem using a certain mathematical sequence and ratio, an abstraction which describes many organic phenomenon found in nature. The 'poem' or prose follows a pattern according to this sequence. I would be impressed if someone could spot the formula which this prose strictly follows. The content of the poem itself hints at it, as does the title. The sentences, the words and the letters themselves even hint at its formula. It is an experiment in self-referential mathematics inspired literature. If no one can figure out the formula, in one week I will post the formula. I don't mean to over intellectualize anything here, I apologize if it comes off that way. Think of it as a mathematical/literary puzzle--a literary sudoku.
Eleven Times Thirteen Equals Seven
in
Heaven
This tale begins an eternity ago, but since I must assume
I only have your focus for a considerably shorter span of
time, I must begin near the end, which is luckily far
enough from the conclusion of the events to sufficiently tell a
decent tale, though already I know what you are thinking. You’re thinking, ‘but didn’t he admit his yarn is one spun for
an eternity‘, a thought which I will gladly conclude without your
having to finish, as a kindred spirit or good pal might.
How could an eternity have an ending for upon which a
story could end that did not beget yet further incident? A
valid inquiry and a keen mind you have by which nothing
can pass. However, the tale with no ending has ended. But
I haven’t swindled you. I’ll offer these. Two words. Ratio. Phi.
in
Heaven
This tale begins an eternity ago, but since I must assume
I only have your focus for a considerably shorter span of
time, I must begin near the end, which is luckily far
enough from the conclusion of the events to sufficiently tell a
decent tale, though already I know what you are thinking. You’re thinking, ‘but didn’t he admit his yarn is one spun for
an eternity‘, a thought which I will gladly conclude without your
having to finish, as a kindred spirit or good pal might.
How could an eternity have an ending for upon which a
story could end that did not beget yet further incident? A
valid inquiry and a keen mind you have by which nothing
can pass. However, the tale with no ending has ended. But
I haven’t swindled you. I’ll offer these. Two words. Ratio. Phi.
