never again.

not in a million years

A sorry book filled with blank pages and empty promises. A sad novel with cold metaphors and dark analogies. How apologetic it must seem, to read such a thought provoking nothingness, like experiencing a revelation while watching paint dry.
A song with atmospheric beats that match the irregular rhythm of your heartbeat, making your soul connect to it. What would happen if such a song disappeared? Would a piece of your soul go along with it? Would that be such a bad thing? Perhaps your soul would enjoy the company of another empty object, such as the blank novel. Or perhaps your soul would manifest itself into its own literary black hole.
How strange, a book, the smell of knowledge, the feel of satisfaction, the headache inducing long nights of needing to reach the next chapter. What is the next chapter of the empty novel? When will it end? Maybe never.
Never again.