#ThrowMeInATimeMachineAndLoopIt

[ruminationsandbrainbugs]

From one of my late-night scrawling notepads. Enjoy.

“empty”

I find myself in the epicenter of empty Engrossed in the full horrors and rewards of it. Loss of all I’ve loved and felt. Hopeless, cold, pure loss. The past, the future, the present. All aspects from those things that kept me going, kept me loving, kept me who I was; gone, guaranteed to never return. Devoid of care of all things, loss of responsibility to any but myself. All this thrust upon me but unable to attain without struggle. To accept the gift is to lose the final existence of the once loved... The existence of it within the mind. If you always hold on, it will never truly be dead. To let go is to accept its death respectfully, honorably, painfully. To do this, and kill all you’ve been, is to do everything you wish you wouldn’t. It is to admit hatred of what you love, to accept the frigid dissolving of your life’s reason, and to witness the crumbling of your utopia. It is to know full well that the only way forward is to fire the gun pointed at your. To reach out, despite the crippling weight on your shoulders, find the trigger, despite the tears clouding your eyes, steady your hand, despite the withdrawal shakes, harness your resolve, and pull. To find frustration within yourself. (Why won’t you just pull the trigger already, damn you...) To uncover a newfound loss of contempt for the world. (Where did the world go? The world I knew. The loving, hopeful, good world? Did it die with my reason?) To explore depths in your person that make you shudder, that you wish you could ignore until death. (Where did you come from? I thought I suppressed you. I know you’re there. I know you’re me. Stop it, please...) To be confused as to what is scarier... The known, or the unknown. (What is my reason now? Is my reason gone forever, or still missing? I don’t care to know. Just grant me ignorance, grant me uncaring.) To hate To feel To love To grapple To indulge To explore To grieve To kneel of exhaustion and awe at the altar of all you’ve never known yet find yourself at the behest of To be. This is what it is to be empty.