Speechless

Sometimes, there are no words. Quite literally so; I saw something earlier that rendered me speechless. I don't even know where to begin with addressing it, it is too perverse for me to even get my head around. My only responses to it were rage and nausea and confusion. Anything I could say about it would be ranting, just venting. A meaningless outburst would serve no purpose, so I have nothing to say about it.

And that's good, I think. The idea that there might be a day when nothing can render me speechless is disturbing in the utmost. I don't want to be able to analyse and comment on everything, to account for and address everything. That's too much like comprehending the perverse thinking on display. When I can't proffer a response, I can at least cling to that as a sign that I am not yet like them. Their world doesn't make sense to me. God help me the day it does. Of course, venting incoherent rage isn't going to change anything. It'll take someone other than me to actually improve things. But I don't know that I want to be able to think like that person. I don't think I want a philosophy that accounts for everything.