Different versions of text have inhibited this space under this picture of the Falling Waters. Shifting texts of shifting degrees of truth. What was once a suicide note, later a moment of momentous clarity, all absconding into pointless disingenuity. I have been swapping words like swapping moods.

What was I thinking? And why do I revise myself so much in this empty room? For whose sake? And for what cause?

I have been a terrible person. I have not lived by my principle. And I have lost my capacity for truth. I have let myself go.

So now I have this, emptiness, in place of…

growth, clarity, redemption, confrontations, friendship, life, death, work, word, truth, tears…

The longer it goes, the longer the meaning stretches itself into meaninglessness. Nothing I say will make sense. So I will say nothing. But I will never go back. I promised myself that. And I cannot go forward. I am comforted and coddled by this place in-between. So let me lie here for a while and write vague stuff.

Edit: 26/09/2025

I am an idiot.