Empty.

Empty.

An existence. One filled with a ‘feeling’ so hard to comprehend, and consequently, inexplicably hard to define.

Being empty is when you are running on only the most necessary state of mind needed for the simplest survival; you carry out day-to-day tasks without realising. You walk, you eat, you drink, you sit down, you lie down, you stare, you disappear. You don’t realise.

Being empty is when you see your reflection and see it as just a reflection of a person whom you do not recognise. It is when you stand and stare at the person in the mirror for endless minutes, thinking nothing, seeing nothing. You do not see the emotions or the history behind the skin. You see only a person, it is not you, is it even a reflection any more?

Being empty is when you hit things, punch walls, cut deep, without a second thought. It is when you wait for the pain to set in because you need it so badly to remind you that you are still alive, not just in a limbo of confused existence. It is when you don’t even realise you needed the pain, you just do it as a reflex.

Being empty is being physically unable to move or talk or listen. You cannot move from your state of paralysis in front of the mirror or in the corner of your room. You cannot move the fingers that you have so intricately entwined with a blade away from your wrist. You cannot answer the question you were just asked. You cannot recognise the words that are being spoken.

Being empty is where you see only denotation. The connotations you automatically think have disappeared and you are left with nothing but ‘ceiling’, ‘rain’, ‘blood’.

Being empty is where you are not sad, nor happy, nor angry. You feel them all at once, in a rush so strong that you cannot feel them at all. Perhaps it could be said that there is so much emotion that there is none.

Being empty is where you do not know which is worse; the emotion or the state of numbness.

Being empty is when you do not feel. Being empty is when you cannot feel. Being empty is being a ghost.

Being empty is feeling nothing when your lover kisses you or wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. It is feeling nothing when she strokes your face and tells you that it is going to be alright.

Being empty is when you cannot cry because there is nothing to bring the tears, despite the millions of thoughts that circled in your mind just ten minutes ago.

Being empty is not living.

Being empty is existing.

Being empty is being hopeless.

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