Z is for my love of nothing.
Today, zero makes me ridiculously giddy because it means there are no more posts to go in this series. My work is done and few things — I mean, zero things — make me happier than a sense of accomplishment. I’m sure other things make me as equally happy as accomplishment, but nothing makes me more happy. (Get it?)
Aside from zero meaning I get to finally shed the weight of the alphabet, there’s its perfection and beauty both as a number and symbol. It’s round and eternal, all and nothing. Even as a word, it begins with one of the rarest letters. Z is swashbuckling but modern, a Zorro triple zip, a backward S with edges and pizazz, a phonetically satisfying voiced fricative with the be-all/end-all distinction of being last.
Zero makes up one half of the binary system of all things digital; without it there would be no “off” state and no computer-generated anything. So zero is everything.
You, zero, sexy, astonished, open, nihilistic mofo, have made my year. Like that big bowl of zeroes above or the celebratory balloons, I hereby dedicate to you any image that remotely emulates the likeness of your shape.
In fact, in the last pair of pictures, we end with a second of set bubbly bulbs not even taken by me, but brazenly stolen from the Exceptionally Tall Man while he was sleeping.
I couldn’t help it. It looked like zeroes and I’m obsessed.
~ Part of the A to Z Challenge ~
A post a day except Sunday for the month of April to cover topics beginning with each letter of the alphabet. Events always real, names always changed.
Cathartic Monkeyism returns in May.
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