2: Notes from Nowhere

Being alone in the void isn’t all bad.
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I have my friend, Pony, at least. From this day forth he will be known as Void Pony.

It's another exciting day for Void Pony.

​I wrote a song that made brave use of microtonal dissonance, but it turns out my guitar was just out of tune. 

The best guitarist in the entire lack of a world.

It was only a matter of time, though. An inevitable and cold feeling has been tugging at me. It points only one way, wants only one thing: to venture out.

(Sorry if I’m being dramatic with my imagery, by the way. I’m literally surrounded by an endless voidscape of nothingness and silence so, you know – it’s going to happen).

Anyway, there I was, the lone hero in a lonely universe, ready to step out into the abyss.

I thought maybe I’d fall.

I thought maybe I’d float.

I thought maybe I’d freeze.
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But no, I just wandered. Time and space are inapplicable. I don’t know how far I went or how long I roamed. It felt surreal and tragic. 

This is just like that time in Ikea.

When my candle was halfway gone, I turned around.

​Not that it mattered – a candle can’t light the way when there’s no way to light. I suppose I liked it for the company, the reminder that something exists within nonexistence with me.

If you can read this, check this blog again in a few days. Keep existing. I'll keep not existing. And maybe we can meet somewhere, here, in the middle.