Do we know how deeply lost we are? Do we know? Do we feel it? The extent of our loss? The depth of our loss? Of our disorientation? Because I don’t think we know.
Could we say something true if we tried? Could we actually live in truth?
You want is to worship our groundlessness. Worship the hollowness and the bleakness and the emptiness.
You want us to worship the void. Exalt the void. But how are we supposed to worship what doesn’t care for us? Doesn’t love us?
Work in Progress 