The End of Words is many things. Originally, it’s an experimental piece by a group or a band or a figment of somebody’s twisted imagination called Material. Every time I hear that tune, which features on my Ambient collection, I freak out. In the middle of the tune, the music stops and an old man’s voice comes on and says “The old writer couldn’t write anymore because he has reached the end of words…” and goes on to saying random unrelated things that I can’t completely make out or make sense of.
I freak out because I wonder what happens if I become an old writer one day and I reach the end of words. What is the end of words? What happens to someone when reaching the end of words? Is it the end of life? The end of sanity?
I tried writing about it, rationalizing it, making a zine about it… still nothing. It remains one of my biggest mysteries and my biggest obsession.
The End of Words is a Post-Its zine about nonsense – typewritten plus cut & paste layout, including random hand-drawn designs and shit. Don’t try to understand what any of it means. It’s as rational as the end of words.