What are we, some kind of Soyjak Forum?

When I solicit gently, in the very heart of anguish, a strange absurdity, an eye opens itself at the summit, in the middle of my skull. This eye which, to contemplate the sun, face to face in its nudity, opens up to it in all its glory, does not arise from my reason: it is a cry which escapes me. For at the moment when the lightning strike blinds me, I am the flash of a broken life, and this life anguish and vertigo opening itself up to an infinite void, is ruptured and spends itself all at once in this void