It doesn't feel like I'm being quiet. It feels like quiet is being me, like I am lost, overcome, possessed by silence, the voice of the void. Inside I cry out. Outside I cry in. I am surrounded by a myself that isn't me. What have I become? Why must I begone? I have been replaced by nothing and the change has gone unnoticed. I have nothing to say about this, and you are reading it. Or not.
Forget that. Just a bit of wordplay, thoughtplay. Today I am tasked to stand underground and paint the other side of the grass. It's so green. So very, very green. Thanks to me.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
