diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'no-nothing.html')
| -rw-r--r-- | no-nothing.html | 31 |
1 files changed, 15 insertions, 16 deletions
| diff --git a/no-nothing.html b/no-nothing.html index 4222df1..7e5b1b5 100644 --- a/no-nothing.html +++ b/no-nothing.html | |||
| @@ -1,5 +1,6 @@ | |||
| 1 | <!DOCTYPE html> | 1 | <!DOCTYPE html> |
| 2 | <!-- Template for compiled 'Autocento' documents --> | 2 | <!-- AUTOCENTO OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE --> |
| 3 | <!-- vim: fdm=indent --> | ||
| 3 | <html lang="en"> | 4 | <html lang="en"> |
| 4 | <head> | 5 | <head> |
| 5 | <meta charset="utf-8"> | 6 | <meta charset="utf-8"> |
| @@ -23,24 +24,22 @@ | |||
| 23 | <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> --> | 24 | <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> --> |
| 24 | </head> | 25 | </head> |
| 25 | <body> | 26 | <body> |
| 27 | |||
| 28 | <article id="container"> | ||
| 29 | <header> | ||
| 30 | <!-- title --> | ||
| 31 | <h1 class="title">No nothing</h1> | ||
| 32 | |||
| 26 | 33 | ||
| 27 | <article id="container"> | 34 | </header> |
| 28 | <header> | ||
| 29 | <!-- title --> | ||
| 30 | <h1 class="title">No nothing</h1> | ||
| 31 | |||
| 32 | |||
| 33 | |||
| 34 | </header> | ||
| 35 | |||
| 36 | <section class="content verse"> | ||
| 37 | <p>While <a href="father.html">swimming in the river</a><br />I saw underneath it a river<br />of stars. Only there was no<br />river: it was noon. You can<br />say <a href="music-433.html">the sun is a river</a>; you<br />can argue the stars back it<br />like <a href="lovessong.html">shirts behind a closet</a><br />door; you can say <a href="big-dipper.html">the earth</a><br />holds us up with its weight<br />or that it means well or it<br />means anything.<br /> There is no<br />closet, <a href="amber-alert.html">nor door</a>; there are<br />no shirts hanging anywhere.<br />There is no false wall that<br />leads deep into the earth’s<br />bowels, <a href="real-writer.html">growing warmer</a> with<br />each step. Warmth as a con-<br />cept has ceased to make any<br />sense. In contraposition to<br />cold, it might, but cold as<br />well <a href="i-think-its-you.html">stepped out</a> last night<br />and hasn’t returned.<br /> Last I<br />heard, it went out swimming<br />and <a href="in-bed.html">might’ve drowned</a>. Trees<br />were the pallbearers at the<br />funeral, the train was long<br />and wailful, there was much<br /><a href="http://biblehub.com/luke/13-28.htm">wailing and gnashing</a> of all<br />teeth–though there were no<br />teeth, no train, no funeral<br />or prayer or trees at all–<br />nor a <a href="howtoread.html">river underneath</a> any-<br />thing. There was nothing to<br />be underneath anymore.<br /> Look<br />around, and tell me you see<br />something. Look around, and<br />tell me something that I do<br />not know. I know, more than<br />anything, that the world is<br />always ending. Behind that,<br />there is nothing, save that<br />there is no nothing either.</p> | ||
| 38 | <p>Nothing somehow still turns<br />and flows past us, past all<br />time and beyond it, a river<br />returning, to its forgotten<br />origins deep within itself.</p> | ||
| 39 | </section> | ||
| 40 | </article> | ||
| 41 | 35 | ||
| 36 | <section class="content verse"> | ||
| 37 | <p>While <a href="father.html">swimming in the river</a><br />I saw underneath it a river<br />of stars. Only there was no<br />river: it was noon. You can<br />say <a href="music-433.html">the sun is a river</a>; you<br />can argue the stars back it<br />like <a href="lovessong.html">shirts behind a closet</a><br />door; you can say <a href="big-dipper.html">the earth</a><br />holds us up with its weight<br />or that it means well or it<br />means anything.<br /> There is no<br />closet, <a href="amber-alert.html">nor door</a>; there are<br />no shirts hanging anywhere.<br />There is no false wall that<br />leads deep into the earth’s<br />bowels, <a href="real-writer.html">growing warmer</a> with<br />each step. Warmth as a con-<br />cept has ceased to make any<br />sense. In contraposition to<br />cold, it might, but cold as<br />well <a href="i-think-its-you.html">stepped out</a> last night<br />and hasn’t returned.<br /> Last I<br />heard, it went out swimming<br />and <a href="in-bed.html">might’ve drowned</a>. Trees<br />were the pallbearers at the<br />funeral, the train was long<br />and wailful, there was much<br /><a href="http://biblehub.com/luke/13-28.htm">wailing and gnashing</a> of all<br />teeth–though there were no<br />teeth, no train, no funeral<br />or prayer or trees at all–<br />nor a <a href="howtoread.html">river underneath</a> any-<br />thing. There was nothing to<br />be underneath anymore.<br /> Look<br />around, and tell me you see<br />something. Look around, and<br />tell me something that I do<br />not know. I know, more than<br />anything, that the world is<br />always ending. Behind that,<br />there is nothing, save that<br />there is no nothing either.</p> | ||
| 38 | <p>Nothing somehow still turns<br />and flows past us, past all<br />time and beyond it, a river<br />returning, to its forgotten<br />origins deep within itself.</p> | ||
| 39 | </section> | ||
| 40 | </article> | ||
| 42 | <nav> | 41 | <nav> |
| 43 | <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> ◊ </a> | 42 | <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> ◊ </a> |
| 44 | </nav> | 43 | </nav> |
| 45 | </body> | 44 | </body> |
| 46 | </html> | 45 | </html> |