In the quiet echoes of our dialogues, the flavor of my words remains untouched, as if they float in a realm where comprehension refuses to tread. It seems my carefully crafted expressions, once brimming with purpose, now drift aimlessly, failing to nurture your soul as intended. Each syllable, once pregnant with meaning, now hangs in the air, lost in the vast expanse of indifference.

Within the framework of our connection, I find myself reduced to a mere adornment – a decorative fixture stripped of substantive meaning. The core of my being appears confined to the outskirts, existing without depth or consequence. A stark realization emerges, painting my existence as a canvas devoid of significance, where every endeavor seems devoid of purpose.

Throughout the narrative of my life, an ongoing quest unfolds – a pursuit to discover the elusive gem of purpose. Yet, as the chapters progress, a disheartening truth takes root. The promises of fulfillment, once held high, crumble into the dust of futility. The fruits of my labor, it seems, hover just beyond reach, prompting me to question the very essence of purpose within my existence.

In the exploration of self-discovery, I grapple with the unsettling notion that the canvas of my endeavors may be painted with strokes of emptiness. As the chapters of my journey unfold, a haunting inquiry lingers: do I harbor a purpose, or are my pursuits destined to yield only the barren harvest of fruitless efforts?

The echoes of these contemplations ripple through the corridors of my thoughts, casting a shadow of existential questioning. The words, once seeking resonance, now dance in the shadows of uncertainty, yearning for a connection that remains persistently elusive.

—Josh Mullins—