What color is nothing?
Nothing is red, like thick blood running down a face. Red like the sky around the setting sun. Red like the color white roses lost. How do I know, I know. Before all I could see. And I got lost in the passion-flames of creation. The truth is that a bowl is more useful when empty. And empty bowls are filled with red.
What was the light shining on?
The light lights up the world and the many waves (sometimes grains) marches onward in a timeless march. An endless march. It ends all too quickly. Soon it reaches its destination, you.
Who am I?
You are the cat that bounced back as a reaction to massless blood. The burning rose that will turn into grey plain ash. And in the end you will be the one to return home, alone. You think you have left something behind, but if it was forgotten it must not have been important. Even you know that isn't true.
What did I forget?
Red. The scarlet skies. The crimson pool where something is reflected. The things I can't make you remember. The twin roses that were burned, one loosing color the other becoming dust. The mind you have often housed stillness, peace and quiet. But you have lost your red.
Why is nothing red?
Nothing is red as color is a lie. It requires the marching grains to hit takers and grabbers in our sight, that makes them march along constructed paths into our self simulation. Then the empty bowl is filled with red because it doesn't matter. Nothing is empty, empty is nothing.
What do I simulate?
We all simulate our selves. Pain. Cries. Endurance. Will. Happiness. Love. Interpretation. Pain, again. Discomfort. Reward. Penalty. Reward. Penalty. Looping endlessly for the purpose of creating another simulation. All tinted red by nothing at all.
Does any of it have meaning?
Red doesn't matter. I don't matter. The simulation runs itself until it cannot. You tint yourself in red.
For what purpose?
For what purpose.