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And for all that was left to be said we chose not to say anything at all. For what needed to be said, there were no words. There was nothing – no real thought nor feeling. Just a hint of them. An idea of a thought and a feeling. Like a dusty memory that feels wrongly remembered. We keep telling the stories, reeling in reactions, asking ourselves if we were just lying. Is it a lie if we don’t remember? Yes.
L‘appel du vide – the call of the void.