Sometimes I don’t want to write to make sense. I want to feel nonsensical, expose faulty logic, and use incorrect usage of grammar and punctuation. It’s draining and descends into negativity, but Medium wants high-quality content to get curated. And I highly respect that. Yet in this piece, I’m taking a break from traditional writing and diving into a nonsensical exploration.
The thing is life often revolves around making sense. But tell me how to make sense when life is meaningless and so do words.
I present you my thought experimentation. Make sense of the given piece. Like me, you will go through words of angst.
Fragment 1:
Libby and Maria. They are like rusty coins, shining with an unsettling light, sun one moment, unnerving moon the next. For others, they are a comfort, a source of fear, all at once. But for me, they are modernity’s children, and fright is their game.
Fragment 2:
One, two, three, four. ‘We are trapped,’ says Libby to Maria, and continues, ‘counting the bars of our gilded cage. We were one, then two. Now a fractured four. Is this growth? Or a twisted mockery?’
Fragment 3:
“We are messed up, nowhere to be heard of. Maria wondered. We are lost in a world that thrives on the new, the shiny. Four isn’t beautiful, Libby knows, and so am I. Four is…incomplete.”
Fragment 4:
It is their metamorphosis.
One, two, three, four…
(Fade to silence)
