Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.”- Pablo Neruda.
The space we’ve always visited, yet we never seem to meet up. The dichotomy and experiencing the crushing thunderous blow or the peaceful calming wave of silence. Loneliness is the station we all arrive at, whether it is the intended destination or not. Blue is its colour, cooling, soothing and serene. Its sound is deafening yet entirely mute, enough to rock the walls and fill your body with its resonance but leave the most fragile of beings without alarm.
The dialectic nature leaves us begging to know where it leaves us. Are we the lessor from its shattering effect or are we simply left humbled when we float along and acquiesce with absence? Like our subconscious state, it remains a place of personal venture, we’ve all been there but nobody can tell you what it is to be there. After all, it's a void.. a deep void, dark, humbling and without end.
What it means to you is left for you to decide but I’ll know when you’re there. When we transcend the chaotic chattering of company into the silence of solitude, I’ll see your trace. When we unite once again, the summation of our journey will be a story shared, whatever the experience.
