My existence is utterly meaningless.
I don’t believe existence, itself, is meaningless. I don’t think I’m *that* much of a nihilist. Other people mean something to other people. I witness it, and it’s beautiful. I watch from afar as people are celebrated for being themselves surrounded by people they love and who love them. There’s beauty in this world. Other things mean things to other things. The natural world is beautiful. I am only a witness.
I am a void that can move, consume oxygen and resources and shit and piss.
I have no value as a person. I hate talking. I hate […]
