Page With No Name
~ All Who Come In Peace Are Welcome ~
*lame name, but give it a chance
I do feel guilty though, as I know quite well that they are not endless. I sit here in my quiet room and interrupt the peaceful silence with the tapping of my keys, as I pour upon this emptiness a piece of the vastness of nothing which fills my mind.
Would it really matter if I slept, rather than write this nonsense? Will the world change for the time I waste tonight? I think not, although it's been said the butterfly who flaps her wings in China, may cause a hurricane in New York.
what storms may I create tonight, other than the restlessness of my own
idle thought? And who may I inspire with these meaningless words?
Will some future artist create great works of beauty from these empty sentences? Or should these words inspire a sonnet, full of passion that will ignite the world?
Neither, I think, but a part of me does believe that what I do tonight is important in some small way, if not for what I write, but that I do write.
somehow, I am contributing to the betterment of humankind, by the mere
fact that I spend this time tapping away, rather than committing some heinous
crime, or, if this should ever be read by another, it may occupy their
time for that one precious minute that saves their future self from calamity,
or engages them in reading, rather than driving reckless, or being rude.
And what if, by some cosmic chance, this is what saves my own life? Who can know the ultimate outcome of anything one does? Maybe even the paper itself will be used as a handy tool for shoo-ing troublesome insects.
So, for now, I will take some heart in the fact that although I waste a priceless moment by writing this drivel, perhaps I will somehow prevent a wayward butterfly from wreaking havoc on the world.
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