In search of void

                 I stand without help,

                In this extensive and void world,

                My bottoms planted resolutely on the soil,

                But my mind lost in thought.         


                I question my purpose,

                My place in this existence,

                As the winds of time blow past me,

                Leaving me feeling small and insignificant.

                

                I search for meaning,

                In the depths of my soul,

                But all I find is a void,

                A void that fills me with fear and uncertainty.              


                I am but a mere speck,

                In the grand scheme of things,

                A fleeting moment in the eternal flow of time,

                But still, I must find my way,


                For I am alive,

                And that alone is reason enough,

                To keep searching,

                To keep fighting,

                For a place in this world,

                A reason for being.

                

                So, I stand tall,

                And face the unknown,

                With valor and fortitude,

                For I am not alone,

                In this journey of life,

                We are all just wandering souls,

                In search of our sense.

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I’m Human—warm like winter toast, but not especially easygoing. I write awkwardly, under my own name and sometimes as A’man(t), a medieval busker who can’t sing or dance. My name confuses people, my prose disappoints expectations, and my books are strange enough that I don’t recommend them. I listen to Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Willie Nelson, and other dead musicians. I overfeed my guppies. I’ve published books that barely explain me: Mimosa, Anugami, Who Will Bury the Dead God, The Outsider, and The Unknown Existence of Being. Cheers.

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