Something needs to materialize from all this nothingness that overwhelms me right now, anything, should it even be nonsensical words – such as these. Oajfo 0234t ju femof39 mgog03 g,sgo 9tj  t org mIm makign something isn’t that it. That’s just call that has to come out, fucking spew out motherfucking words, flow, stream like the infinite neurons that has made you, and can never be stopped. Seeing as that I don’t even want to move, but just sit here, inanely making up sentence fragments as I go along – there isn’t much I can say that will ever materialize. I’m such a worthless piece, a liar who knows no ends, but only ends up in pain, conjuring it up in others, and myself. Hiowa gfheogt2930u 3tFUkvcjvsgFUKCK. What’s going to happen now, live on a meaningless life again? What was it like to have meaning, and a purpose? Should I blame it on the chemical imbalance, or the fact that I never knew in the first place.

Change, psssft. change for what, to where, and why.

I think the emtipness has gotten to me, it’s making me do crazy things. The void has opened up again, teared open a new hole, perhaps even larger than the previous one that existed. No light is shining through, just a deep dark abyss… an emptiness that forgoes the darkest shade there is. Yeah, and what to fill it up with huh? Love? Love has let me down so many times I don’t think I can even say I want to feel it again. But I do! It’s just not happnening right now, I’m not letting it again. This pain lingers too deep, if I should heal – I know I will – but it will be a long time from now. I can’t even find enough strength to love myself currently, it goes without saying I can’t love others. Could I ever love anybody else, more than I? I’m still a coccon concealed in my own lilttle world, like an armor relentlessly holding it’s form, unwilling to crack. But crack it has, inside, where I’m lost in the chasm created by own sense of self worth. A chasm of despair.

There is something mysterious about the past that keeps a constant bind on me, inhibiting me to exuberant the inner glow that would move me forward in this world. Whatever it is about the past, the continuous lingering is causing me to grow weary, drained - sore from all the energy it’s sucked out of me. I want it to stop. Something, or someone, has a lasso wrapped around the road - my road - the road that twists and whines, ceasing to make sense, but nevertheless heads to a direction onwards. Onwards, forward, there, not here, but over there - yonder the yellow brick road and onto a plane field filled with dandelions. It’s two steps forward, and three steps back. Then one more step forward, and I’ve yet to actually move anywhere. Perhaps all the reflection and introspection has caught me in a delirious dream; I’m stuck pondering how to make sense of it all – the past – but it’s nothing more that just understanding. The more I understand the more I’m stuck, the past is lurking beneath every step I take, waiting around like quicksand to swallow me whole, or a deep well buried in the middle of no where, just knowing I’ll set foot upon it – lack of foot, and more of falling actually. Oh, how I yearn for amnesia.   

   There is something else here that’s typing as of now, as of, since around 4 p.m. today. Oh I think you know very well who is it, or what should I say, is here. In here. In this pain. I can’t see a way out right now, but I know it’ll come. I want it to hit me like a bolt of lightening striking a kite roaming about, not meant to be there, but coincidentally just under the right time and space, be struck by this bolt out of no where, for the sake of no purpose but to just happen. And thus, I want it to hit me like that: out of no where. Hit me and may it be so harsh and done in, that I’ll awaken with amnesia, and a new person with no memories or recurrent habits, will arise to walk the rest of my days, in here.

    When will that ever occur, is really unknown to me and whatever it is that surrounds me. It is even unknown to the all-knowing kind of people, namely, god/s. And I can’t remember when was the last time I felt free from it, from this, from the thing that has abruptly swallowed me whole. What was it like not even thinking about it, what was I thinking then, what were the thoughts that consumed me? It doesn’t even feel as if that sort of time existed, because all I know is now, which is that I feel contained, trapped and locked in this well. Again.

    I’m going to wither up and die now, because everything does in time, maybe so not my time currently, but it will be. But it looks as if it’s happening on a cheat, I’ve cheated my way to the finish and now I’m already there, almost, by surely enough closer than I should be; dying.