us_1999
Fragments of myself
- Feb 1, 2021
- 53
It's as if I'm constantly thinking about something, but no I'm thinking nothing. As if I'm trying to do something, but no I'm not doing anything. As if I devote all my energy to solve something, but there's no problem.
I can articulate partial problems. But once I utter them and see them, they don't seem significant at all.
What's the main problem? The problem is, it's all meaningless. But once I try to explain it it becomes trival.
My mind is empty, and it's full of pain, and it's full of emptiness. I hope to be able to feel pain, but I feel emptiness; the emptiness is painful, but the pain is empty. The emptiness is heavy, and all my attention is drawn to it, so it bears all the weight of my hope. But it's still empty.
I'm ok when I don't get stuck here. But I always get stuck here. I know what will happen (nothing will happen) if I let myself absorb into this gravitational hole. But I always, always circle back. As if there's something meaningful, something unignorable. As if inside this black hole there's an answer to my life. I'm pulled back here to solve it, to articulate what is not yet there. Here the emptiest fullness or the fullest emptiness assumes the pseudo depth of an abyss into which I fall.
I fall,
fall,
fall,
But I'm not getting any deeper. I don't get any closer to the answer of an unarticulated question. I'm simply hanging where I was. I need something real, something solid with which I can define myself, with which I can become definite,
Then here it comes, death. "I want to die", I say. On this sentence I stay. I repeat this sentence to myself as if it is The answer. Here I land.
Just went out to buy beer and thoughts about emptiness circle in my mind. So I come here to write it down.
Purely subjective. Perhaps I should use the "venting" tag...
I can articulate partial problems. But once I utter them and see them, they don't seem significant at all.
What's the main problem? The problem is, it's all meaningless. But once I try to explain it it becomes trival.
My mind is empty, and it's full of pain, and it's full of emptiness. I hope to be able to feel pain, but I feel emptiness; the emptiness is painful, but the pain is empty. The emptiness is heavy, and all my attention is drawn to it, so it bears all the weight of my hope. But it's still empty.
I'm ok when I don't get stuck here. But I always get stuck here. I know what will happen (nothing will happen) if I let myself absorb into this gravitational hole. But I always, always circle back. As if there's something meaningful, something unignorable. As if inside this black hole there's an answer to my life. I'm pulled back here to solve it, to articulate what is not yet there. Here the emptiest fullness or the fullest emptiness assumes the pseudo depth of an abyss into which I fall.
I fall,
fall,
fall,
But I'm not getting any deeper. I don't get any closer to the answer of an unarticulated question. I'm simply hanging where I was. I need something real, something solid with which I can define myself, with which I can become definite,
Then here it comes, death. "I want to die", I say. On this sentence I stay. I repeat this sentence to myself as if it is The answer. Here I land.
Just went out to buy beer and thoughts about emptiness circle in my mind. So I come here to write it down.
Purely subjective. Perhaps I should use the "venting" tag...
