Sometimes it just all dies

Sometimes everything suddenly turns to dust, doesn’t it?

Or perhaps not even dust.  Hollowness.  Nothingness.

And why not?  Everything is hollowness, we’re told,  everything is nothingness.

Aha.  But feelings.  Emotion.  Love, hate, happiness, etc…

In the absence of any tangible reality they exist, don’t they?  And we have some control over them.  We can literally manufacture happiness, love, interest, fascination, preoccupation, to some extent at least.

Which kinda brings it all back to life when we do that, doesn’t it?

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