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The Anvil of Existentialism
This isn't your typical tourist place. It is a plane of green in spring, brown in summer and white in winter. There is nothing here. There's nothing. Nothing. Here. Nothing but the road you are on. Nothing but the road you are on and the thoughts you brought in. Some difficult places around the world are called the Anvil of God. This is the Anvil of Existentialism. It is easy enough to survive - physically. But there is nothing here to amuse, nothing to see, nothing to do, nothing to distract. No echoes, no reflections, no landmarks. If you say something, nobody will hear it. If you mark the ground, nobody will see it. Nothing but the road out. Nothing. Not for the faint of heart.
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