nothingness

ever just stared off into space? sometimes the ignorant stranger may look and suspect a profound moment of thought and whatnot. well the truth is its not. its the most pathetic pass time in all of ones life - not living at all. not thinking or listening, or even noticing a screaming customer or a beeping register. you're just there. who knows if your eyes are opened or closed, if you're standing or sitting. none of it really matters, only that you are - at that point - nothingness. though some people see this as a beautifully simple blank slate, allowing the awesomesness of the universe seep through every pore of man, i see this as the downfall of man. imagine this whole text. imagine this whole page blank. nothing there. i'm not talking about the potential in a writers work or in a composers masterpiece. i'm talking about the lack of work in such. if this page were blank it would be because i didn't think this or I thought it and let it pass into the nothingness. i returned to my 'awesome blank slate'. this is the amazing power of silence - of nothing. An absolute lack of movement, of color, or contrast and unity. Powerless to move someone, it doesn't inspire or influence. if anything it shows how little we are living. how many empty wholes exist in our reality. a blank pages only symbolizes what was not. what could have been but (for some ridiculously lazy and pathetic reason) was not.