If there were no emptiness, there would be no life.

That room has been static for me so long:an emptiness. a void. a silencecontaining an unheard storyready for me to unlock.Let there be plot.

The objects I chose were designed to hold something, but I didn't fill them up. They remained empty. They were little symbolic shrines to thirst.

To feel that empty, again, again. I listen to my heart, wave upon wave, salty and red, continuing on and on, marking time.