【Nihilism】
It doesn’t
matter.
There’s no truth to be had, no reality before me but fallacies constructed by the words of other. My breath, sight, constructs of fiction tied together by mathematical strings and empty words. It’ll be over, the nothing that hadn’t the chance to begun—no point in waiting, no purpose in looking forward to the next dawn, the following hour, the chime of the distended clocktower.
Why wait? Why persist in meaningless turmoil?
There’s no answer.
It doesn’t exist, just like everything else.
There’s no truth to be had, no reality before me but fallacies constructed by the words of other. My breath, sight, constructs of fiction tied together by mathematical strings and empty words. It’ll be over, the nothing that hadn’t the chance to begun—no point in waiting, no purpose in looking forward to the next dawn, the following hour, the chime of the distended clocktower.
Why wait? Why persist in meaningless turmoil?
There’s no answer.
It doesn’t exist, just like everything else.
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