Living Will-O-Wisp
Somewhere is nowhere. Just as nowhere is leading to somewhere.
"Trapped in a place", that is the truth, truth is an illusion.
We never wanted to be truly free, optimized movement had brought us to a settlement of burials. We strip meaning away from everything, products, trash, languages, values, life stages...we box them, embalm them, put the nail into the coffin lid.
And there's this constant urge to disturb the dead, we often come back to mourn, maybe rearrange the bones. Because we are living beings and we want to hold the mic in some way to un-announce the demise of things long gone.
You set corpses of meaning ablaze and reanimate them, you cannot help it. When you finally rest, your traces would glow in the dark upon greeting other lost souls and occupy their heads in the form of eternal flame.
Living Will-O-Wisps cannot touch things yet because they phase through them, but they always leave a mark in nowhere and on someone.