And what of us? Are we here? Can we say we’re here, philosopher? And what does it mean to be here, anyway?
Who are we, here? Where is this place … this no-place. This absence.
Has everything ended? Has it all ended? But it’s an endless end. And what about the beginning? Are things going to begin – all over again? But it’s a beginning without beginning. Without initiative. Nothing commences here.
We’re lost here. Everything is lost except what we’re saying. Which is only saying that we’re lost.