Sunday, 28 June 2015

Black holes

I started to believe in black holes to have something to talk about before or after sex; I started to study them for the same reason that I started to write: so that they'd love me (one must recognize one's pathological attitudes towards the world if one wants to recount something that is true) and to stop being afraid. Literature and black holes saved me. When I looked at the African sky I did not look for stars, I looked for supernovas exploding and tearing the universe, converting it into paradise. 

And no, I don't speak from a poetic point of view, I speak from pure hard math. 
What makes black holes special is their density. Their density that creates the event horizon. It doesn't sound sexy at first, but it works. 

To summarize it without using too many technical details: an event horizon is the sphere around the black hole from which electromagnetic radiation cannot escape. Light cannot escape. That is peace. Knowing that there is no possible exit. Particles traveling at the speed of light (planets, stars, I sick, I sad, I who fights) falling into the center of the black hole. Time pointing towards the center. The inevitable. That's my heaven, that's the paradise that I believe in. A way to be forever would be for a black hole to absorb us and radiate us in it's light forever. 

There is nothing more beautiful than to think of being a body mixed with the stars, space junk, screws of rocket ships; there is nothing more dignified than being the light that some drunk teenagers about to fuck see.

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