Emptiness....
It feels like nothing. It feels like... nothing. I want to replace it with something... anything. I feel like I can't breathe because of it. Its suffocating me in its nothingness and I can't seem to do anything about it. I don't know what I'm doing but I need to so something before I'm in over my head. I dug my nails into my arm today. It helped. I felt something lift that invisible weight that seems to be crushing down on my chest. But I don't see myself going down that road. I don't want to. It is self-destructive. What if eventually my nails aren't enough? Self-mutilation is extreme, even for me.
But I can't live like this. I can't live with a great big hole inside of me. I can't live with such emptiness. With this invisible gas that is choking my lungs, making it hard to breathe, to see, to feel,... to be.
My head is spinning. I can't catch myself. I feel like I've been on a carousel at warp speed for the last 20 years of my life. Everything is a blur. I didn't make a difference. I didn't matter. I don't matter.
Who are we? WHAT are we? Figments of someone's overactive imagination, a story about unnamed characters and unforeseeable plots. A story with grammatical and punctuational errors. An error. A half bent staple pin and crumpled papers. A rainbow with no color and gruesome fairy tales. Who are we? and what are we doing here?
Is not knowing emptiness? or are voids just stories that haven't been written yet.
I'm empty. I'm broken and I don't know what to do about it.
I can't breathe and when I try I choke and die a million deaths...
Why is it?
hollow silence.
