~

the articulation of humankind’s futility;

the prospect of inexistence;

the one collective activity

in which we seem to equally participate;

and in that holistic disassembly

I find time for my stupid little pains;

the world is burning;

the earth is screaming;

and I find will to write:

of aches, of loves, of hatreds;

the artery of dissolution is pouring open;

and yet, I sit here comfortably;

it’s not my nihilism that will save the world;

I murmur to myself;

the world can simply not exist.

[GM] 25 / Extinction (#escapril)