I hear, but I no longer listen. Whatever you say, I no longer understand it. You have nothing essential to say to me anyway, you only speak words to yourself. You think I should, I ought to understand you, only there is nothing to be understood. The more you speak, the more you cloak yourself in your words, to the point of being unrecognizable, which, unfiltered, only pass through to me as incomprehensible sounds; compiled into a presumed context in your mental drawers. You create for yourself a reality that corresponds to the fundamental incomprehensibility of your words, a place where you would like to place me.
I refuse, I am rejection in your reality.
Now the illusion of your projection takes its place.
You try to measure, but the form keeps slipping away from you. In vain you try to adapt it to your perception. But more and more it disturbs your sensory impressions, constantly eluding your will.
So you build on even stronger illusions, unconsciously feeding yourself.
Until finally you are confronted with futility.
And then?