Sitting here staring at a blank screen for a post about words.
One might think it’s ironic.
Though the screen’s not blank anymore.
Now it’s meta.
Now it’s one big meta ironic post. Like an insufferable hipster.
An existence that mocks itself.
A blank screen would be better than a bunch of words that add up to nothing. Which is why I can’t write.
A black hole.
Meaning that is devoid of meaning.
It devours itself. It devours me.
My brain. It feels eaten. Like a jagged lobotomy done by a zombie.
I’m missing the parts I had before, but I can’t remember what they were.
A word that carries universal meaning but a topic I’ve written about before.
Of course I have.
Something I fear I’ve become.
(Something everything becomes.)