A Vision of West Texas

I need nothingness. The sweet expanse of land and space and time all laid out before me.

West Texas.

If you've never been there, you don't know what nothingness is.

There's a sweet peace about driving when what's before, ahead and beside you is the same. All the same brown land with powerlines running alongside a highway you'll never see a cop on. Stores along the highway no one goes in.

You can drive for hours and never receive cell reception.

That's what I need: an escape. To experience nothingness is to feel everything. To delete the peripheral, if only for a drive. To erase the unessential.

Feels like most of our days that make up most of our lives is about the inconsequential. We spend our lives racking up triple-letter scores on words no one will read. We all commit to play a game where everyone loses, some just less than others.

How did it get like this?

I need nothingness. The sweet expanse of land and space and time all laid out before me.

West Texas.