Venting the "beautiful" dialectic of the rope (a reflection)

[singularity3]

At the moment I fall from the chair and remain hanging from the rope, it will be she who ends up killing me while at the same time becoming the last support that firmly retains me in existence. The rope will end me while I feel it as that which clings me to the world and to existence for the last time. Death comes after feeling life more than ever.