nothing was itself

Niz-nil-limbo

She no longer knew what to make of anything—

She understood nothing—

Nothing was itself—

This meant nothing.

This means nothing.

“It doesn’t matter what time of day you work, but you have to work every day because creation, like life, is always slipping away from you.”

— Walter Moseley / This Year You Write Your Novel

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About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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