What is your function in life?

A chair cosy and comfortable. An enlightening place. Moderate and hip.

And I am swaying though it is not a rocking chair. I am swaying in the inside.

Trembling.

Trebling.

I am the father and the son and the holy nothing. The sum of all and the premise for more.

I am sitting in a chair. A chair made of bones. The histories and the paths stemming from the exit. The last known exit.

It is a grinning journey, in this chair. Where you can lay your head at rest. Withdraw from the common and float through the blind spot of your vision.

Shhh… I am sitting now. Then, I’ll be lying down.