Nothing Happens

Sitting at the center of everything I didn't choose
With no mission no set script
The world goes on and I'm still me here
With no set destination no horizon

The nausea of existing without explanation
Of being thrown here without asking for it
Freedom weighs like a prison
When meaning hasn't yet been built

Idleness isn't emptiness it's raw space
Where the self appears without a mask and without a name
Without the role the day has imposed on you it's you!
Without an agenda that swallows you up without anyone consuming you

You don't have to be productive to exist
You don't need a function to be real
The present isn't a stopover it's the place
Where everything that can, at last, appear

Nothing happens
And that's more than enough
Nothing happens and here I am
No mission, no goal, no compass
Just this moment that no one gave me

Silence is uncomfortable when you're in a hurry
But silence is where the self finally breathes
Reality isn't what your feed tells you
It's what you feel when nothing conspires against you

Stopping isn't failure it's a direct confrontation
As if there were no audience, no likes
Boredom is a portal it's not a flaw
It's the moment your life begins

You don't have to be productive to exist
You don't need a purpose to be real
The present isn't a stopover it's the place
Where everything you are can finally emerge

Nothing happens
And that's amazing
Nothing happens and here I am
No mission, no goal, no compass
Just this moment that no one gave me

Stop!
Stop!
Stop!