My soul, what’s lighter than a feather? Wind.
Than wind? The fire. And what than fire? The mind.
What’s lighter than the mind? A thought. Than thought?
This bubble world. What than this bubble? Nought.
“My thought is me: that’s why I can’t stop. I exist because I think… and I can’t stop myself from thinking. At this very moment — it’s frightful — if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire.”
Jean-Paul Sartre | Nausea