Just one of those paradoxical observations

Just one of the those paradoxical observations. Whatever I write here doesn't matter. I am going to change the colour to white. The background all white. Just white. I can rant. No one will hear. I can be kind. No one will feel good. I can sing praises. I can spew venom. Nothing matters if it is just words. It matters less if the voice is missing. If it is just an internal scream. Then it might as well be the words of someone else. On week one, Nick Frost made this contribution for the missing voice. Now I steal his work with silent attribution. Just one of those paradoxical observations. No reference to the past. No memory. No influence.