Darkness.
You are beautiful.
You are ugly.
But what are you?
You are both nothing and everything. How?
How can you be and not be?
Isn’t it beautiful?
Isn’t it hideous?
Isn’t it grotesque?
You are darkness.
You are that which the light dares not enter.
For you are all light.
You are no light.
You exist in the void of space.
You exist in the center of black holes.
You exist in simple paint.
You exist in the shades of trees.
You are darkness.
Darkness.
What is darkness?
Is it everything? Is it nothing?
Is it neither? Is it both?
Either or, neither nor.
Because darkness is everything and it is nothing.
Lonely.
Lonely.
Lonely.
But why?
Everything.
Nothing.
Lonely.
You are not alone.
For you are lonely.
And thus you are never alone.
Pointless? Pointless?
Pointless?
Everything is nothing, as nothing is everything.
As Sisyphus enjoys his toil, so does Camus’ Merceau.
For they understand the void of darkness.
They understand nothing.
And in doing so, everything.
Darkness.
Nothing.
Everything.
Lonely.
Together.
Nirvana.
Heaven.
Hell.
Purgatory.
Underworld.
Overworld.
Netherworld.
Neverland.
Darkness.
For what is it but nothing and everything?
If I had a cat, would Schrodinger take it?
Would he not? How would I know?
How would he know?
Who knows? Who knows not.
For it is dark.
Too dark.
Darkness.
It is beautiful.
It is ugly.
It is all light.
It is no light.
And that’s what makes it darkness.