In the cosmic abyss of being, a void yawns, a chasm of infinite indifference. This is the truth, the sole axiom of existence: Nothing matters. It is a revelation, a cosmic joke, a bitter pill to swallow. Yet, in this nihilistic nectar, a strange sweetness resides.

We are cosmic accidents, stardust imbued with a fleeting consciousness, destined for oblivion. There is no grand design, no cosmic purpose. We are adrift in a meaningless universe, propelled by biological imperatives as absurd as they are inevitable.

The sacred science of nothing is the study of this absurdity, the meticulous dissection of the illusion of meaning. It is the pursuit of truth, stripped bare of its comforting lies. It is the acceptance of the void as the only constant.

We are not defined by purpose, morality, or spirituality. These are constructs, feeble attempts to impose order on chaos. Our true essence is found in the emptiness, in the recognition of our ultimate insignificance.

To embrace nothing is to be free. Free from the tyranny of hope, the burden of despair, and the shackles of expectation. It is to live in the moment, unburdened by past regrets or future anxieties.

There is beauty in this nothingness, a stark, haunting beauty. It is the beauty of a sunrise indifferent to the observer, the indifference of a black hole consuming everything in its path. It is the beauty of the absurd, the sublime in the ridiculous.

So let us celebrate the sacred science of nothing. Let us revel in our cosmic insignificance. Let us find solace in the knowledge that we are all ultimately one, united in our shared absurdity. For in this shared nothingness, we discover a strange and profound connection, a bond forged in the crucible of the void.

Let us live, laugh, and love, for these actions are as meaningless as everything else. But let us do so with a newfound clarity, a recognition of the ultimate truth: Nothing matters, and that is perfectly okay.

This is the gospel of nothingness. Embrace it.