Solitude There’s nothing here with me. Nothing except everything. The sound of ocean waves crashing against my inner ear brings the sunshine. There’s nothing here with me. Nothing but the beach and cold, carbonated cider. Thoughts careen through my head, empty bottles on an automated assembly line long after there is cider to fill them or even humans to drink them. If I look at the sun it flickers and everything goes black, save for the flickering of a single small candle casting shadows onto nebulous things so that once again There’s nothing here with me. But nothing is everything and nothing is perfect.
Posted on: Sun, 06 Oct 2013 06:34:23 +0000
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