Dissolution

One night me and my friend took a walk, all the way from Mong Kok to Whampoo, along the calmed street, in the mixture of white city light and blurred red tail light of fleeting cars, he posted a question on the desire for non-existence. I paused and agreed that I too sometimes ponder the complete dissolution of oneself, the scenario where I never existed yet remain in the spectator seat to witness the unfolding of the world. The non-desire that stems from desire is dilemmatic in nature, yet reveals our yearnings for meaning buried deep under the perpetual cycle of mundanity and the comforting sensation of stability that creeps out occasionally.