mind over matter

so many words without a thought to date. i'm so sad for no reason and we think that's okay. i've heard great artistry stems from great pain. what if i'm stuck in some sort of numb state? my thoughts are broken but my words are spoken. funny how i've gained this endless devotion to describing descriptions of these bizarre depictions of mindless explanations of objective fictions. these aren't coherent realities. this is simply chaos organized on a page.