last lines

Fledgling time waits until it has no more users and then folds in upon itself. The universe and the cosmic weight of crooked borders cut from crooked rivers and crooked shores dissolves into what it always has been. Elements conspire to shake off the imagined cloak of meaning. Identity and self and ego and persona have all given way to a loose yet still buzzing collection of atoms. Vanity and pain have been overcome. Pleasure is indistinct. Milk, eggs, butter, meat, fish, poultry, housewares, softwares, are all broken down into random strings of simple binary opposition. Void and vacuum swirl and absorb emotion, fidelity, trust, hair gel. Information is reduced to data. Signal slowly turns to noise. Minerals, blood, fluids rush into insignificance. The semiotic monster dies as nothing reasserts its dominance over the universe.