Less than nothing is still something.
It's the sense of something,
the sense of nothing but anything.
The intuition of whatever thing may be
and it is
when it is not.
Silent in its nowhere point.
But and behind the reflex of the whole.
Where is this ungrabable handle?
How to find it? Where should I put the flushed candle?
We certainly live in the very bottom of the deepest and darkest hole.
And I have been chosen (I have been given) a random role...
That's my sense of myself. That's all!