Futility – our whole lives. What we do, what we say. Meaning nothing. Resounding in nothing. Just further hollowing out the nothing. Deepening the nothing.
Our lives, echoing in nothingness. Shouting out their nothingness. Like they’re defiant, or something. Like we want to proclaim our nothingness. Like it’s nothingness pride day, or whatever.
Our voices – I’m sick of our voices. I’m sick of listening to what we have to say. The way we fill up the void with our talk. The way it echoes and resounds: our talk. I want to take a vow of silence.
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Work in Progress 