Emptiness irritates me. Emptiness gives me extreme uneasiness. Emptiness, emptiness- an obsession of my own.

I don’t like looking at anythings that seems interminable, grey, blank or empty. I don’t like a paper looking too white without cluttered writings on it. I don’t like my table being too neat. What pacifies me is a table looking like a mess, with books, novels, and notebooks thrown all over the place. I don’t like leaving the margins of my notebook blank, instead, I always write or draw some peculiar symbols or silly quotes that I myself do not have a clue where they come from. Indeed, one can tell whether if a book is mine or not thanks to all that self-invented drawings. I seemingly never cease to figure out ways to fill my little world, leaving emptiness not a single chance to take a step in.

But it is not as simple a task as I imagine. Life is always awaiting for you to fall into it trap, then kicks you hard, in the face ( or stomach, or belly depending on its mood), ruining all your effort in keeping your soul balanced. Life chastens you as it wants. It may grasp your heart, hold it, and squeeze it until your tears drop. It can capture your lungs, incarcerate it in the box of persecution, making you desiring for fresh air and long for escape from the extremely trammed atmosphere. Or it can do both, at the same time. As I lay in the dark, where exists only the beating of my hearts, where exists nothing but black, fear and my eyes wide open, I realize, how empty my heart has been. No effort subdues the sovereign power of life, and I , despite indefatigable work to fill up my world, fail to save my heart from what I have always evaded.

Then, in that darkness, come loneliness and depression. So lonely that words no longer success in comforting your mind; so depressed that you can not help holding back your tears. Darkness possesses the power of pushing you into a room with walls that can’t be pulled down by your strength, and roof that allows no light to penetrate through.

I try to control everything, but I leave my heart to life. And that was a mistake…..

” I am a ghost of a girl that I want to be most

I am the shell of the girl I used to know well”



One thought on “Where?

  1. Pingback: I Feel Empty, I'm Not Really Here - Parenting And Mental Health

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