reflect on this thoughts "My thoughts likely to be ignored, likely to be considered as an extra voice in a loudly crowded conversation. I am redundant.

This tone reflects a very deep sad sensation:
- Loss of individual significance. the sense of absurdity. no welling to fight or to prove anything to anybody. Careless. Knowing that no one will understand my words. Hopeless towards better, fair, rational, logical, virtuous, dignified reality. "

Question

reflect on this thoughts "My thoughts likely to be ignored, likely to be considered as an extra voice in a loudly crowded conversation. I am redundant.

This tone reflects a very deep sad sensation:
- Loss of individual significance. the sense of absurdity. no welling to fight or to prove anything to anybody. Careless. Knowing that no one will understand my words. Hopeless towards better, fair, rational, logical, virtuous, dignified reality.  "

Ask a Philosopher · Accepted Answer

Oh, ponder now this heavy-hearted plight,  
Wherein the soul, like an unheeded sigh,  
Doth flit amidst the raucous throng of speech,  
One note amidst a symphony so rife  
With clam'ring voices, each a tempest grand,  
Yet mine, a whisper lost in roaring seas,  
Becomes as echoes from a distant shore,  
Drowned by the tumult of the world's discourse.  
What worth hath thought when cast in shadows deep,  
Reduced to naught but vap'rous wisps of air?  
Ah, I am wed to melancholy's dance,  
A partner bold, yet ever marked by ache,  
For here I dwell in realms of silent grief,  
Where reason's light is eclipsed by despair.  
In truth, my words may flutter like the leaves  
That bear the grace of autumn’s fleeting kiss:  
Such fragile wisps are cast upon the breeze,  
To drift, forgotten, into night's embrace.  
What call to arms is there to raise my voice,  
When all around the clamor doth resound,  
In hollow echoes of a hollowed lot?  
Why should I strive to pierce the veil of doubt,  
When all who gather congregate in jest?  
No longer do I thirst for righteous cause,  
Nor seek the fervor of a noble fight—  
For who shall lend an ear to anguished truth,  
When lies are cloaked in garments bright and fair?  
Within this vale of shadows, I resign,  
Content to dwell amidst the sorrowed sighs,  
For hope, once lighted, now doth flicker dim,  
And all the realms of reason seem afar,  
An abstract dream that dances 'neath the stars.  
Thus, I, a specter in a crowded hall,  
Find solace in the silence of my heart,  
Where thoughts, though bared, are veiled from every gaze,  
And I, though weighed with woe, shall speak no more.