Callie Arcale
It’s a tale told by an idiot signifying nothing
- Feb 10, 2021
- 848
One of the things that sets me apart from the other human beings is that I am blank. I have no interests. No hobbies. I lack imagination. I can't draw or play any instruments. I have never collected things. I have never created anything, not ever a paper airplane. I am just empty.
This has always troubled me. I think that the reason I am so blank is because I have always suffered from severe anxiety. Being so consumed with feelings of fear and stress from an early age, has meant that there was never any place for anything else inside my mind. Just dread.
I envy people who feel passionate about something. I wish I had that. I think it would give me some sense of meaning and I would feel less lonely.
When I think of my life ending I shudder at how something that really is nothing can even end. If someone were to open my "book of life" when I am gone and browse through it, they would be surprised to find nothing there. Just blank pages staring back at them.
Anyone else feel this way too?
This has always troubled me. I think that the reason I am so blank is because I have always suffered from severe anxiety. Being so consumed with feelings of fear and stress from an early age, has meant that there was never any place for anything else inside my mind. Just dread.
I envy people who feel passionate about something. I wish I had that. I think it would give me some sense of meaning and I would feel less lonely.
When I think of my life ending I shudder at how something that really is nothing can even end. If someone were to open my "book of life" when I am gone and browse through it, they would be surprised to find nothing there. Just blank pages staring back at them.
Anyone else feel this way too?