From Nothing comes Nothing

I commit myself to the stars
I drop my skin for the sky.

Lights that shine against a canvas of everything,
They call and they shine.
The sheer vastness of continuity in the sky of skies,
The sheer amount of possibilities it holds as compared to a human.
Space is what we lack.

Black fields of white light;
It stretches and stretches;
It demands tribute.
What it would be to simply float forever on complexity
To drown in uncertainty
To be dwarfed
To see a spectacle larger than oneself
Space dementia is the cure for every disease
For the human condition.
To drift in white on that black canvas
To be nothing but nothing in that world of indifference.
To silently look on
And to appreciate without being appreciated.
To not have expectations or be expected of.
Death comes easily in this situation.

by Verasailles
posted on 03/20/2009