today the world is unimpressive. it is clad in a dress of mediocrity; it has not the expressive, vital power of the sun or the explosive, primal force of a storm. it merely is, sullen and somber, and as i step into it i can feel it in me and on me. it does not give me anything, nor does it take; and i can't stop it existing even if i tried to. i want to get a reaction but today it is not possible; today there is no response offered. but don't be mistaken - the world is not mute or without grace. today it just hasn't got anything to say, and the beauty of it comes from a place that escapes all definition.
today i look at the world and recognize the same bleakness that lies within my own being; the same veil that fades out the extremes and tones down the contrasts. the same unexpressive existence that results in nothingness and leaves no mark of itself; because tomorrow the memory of today is of no relevance.
i want to speak but i lack the words; and the silence makes me scream.
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