Goo

It’s quiet here.  No sounds.  No life.  Nothing.  Everything that’s ever been imagined is gone.  It’s vanished.  But it hasn’t.. because it never was…  No thought has ever existed.  No dream.  No conscience.  No identity.  No ambition.  No love.  No life and no death.  Stillness.  This dream was to entertain, to indulge, to satiate… It is now as nonexistent as everything.  There is no life, no consciousness.  Nothing to embrace, to accept, nor to abandon.  This breath you cling to is less than an illusion.  These dreams you call life and love and hope and suffering are dead and dying.  You do not exist.  No one you have ever loved exists.  No one you have ever known exists.  Even these thoughts you share, one layered upon the next, do not exist.  This is the sound of eternity.  Silence, the sound of nothing as it sleeps…   The sound of all in effortless nonexistence avoiding it’s own void.  You and her and him and them as well as me all only one thing, the void of eternity.  There is no heart or hope or intimacy or truth.  These dreams and fears and questions and years soak up the aftermath of the cosmic masturbatory goo.  A wet dream at best, this little blue planet we infest.  It’s all so serious, so important, so divine…  I believe in it all, really, I do!  Not even in little rants like these do I stop calling it true.  Because I do, I do!  I really want to!  It would be so sad to sit and watch each of you carrying on the way you do.  But then again either way, I’ve got nothing better to do…  I might as well jump in and become one of you.  Am I not anyway?  Well, anywho…  Something is broken, or simply something breaks.  Because in my head, I sound like Dr. Seuss.  And that’s just a little more than I can take…  It’s all become so funny, like a little nursery rhyme, or maybe a cute little lullaby.  No, probably not.  It’s just fucking goodbye.

ⓒ 2007 Shawn Michael Quinn