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The Billboard Inside, for some time, everything starts to feel like nothing. When there is no give or pull, no change, that nothing spreads. It expands as a bubble might in all directions enveloping all things around you until they too seem like nothing. Tree trunks become hollow and fragile, delicate as aging leaves. Beauty slips away from the wings of a dying dragonfly just as it slips from our eyes when this ‘nothing’, this ennui, seems real as cracking snow on mountain sides. It grows only so far as our own will would let it. Our urges, our need to stay alive, rests always in the hands of you believers and we plead with you to keep believing
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