Nothingness

I’m still fascinated with the fact that someday I will die and nothing’s going to matter anymore. How inviting is that?

I remember that cute guy from Inuyasha. He’s got a hole in his hand. I don’t remember much about it because I’m not that much of a fan, but I always get to remember him whenever I feel like this. I sometimes feel like I have a hole in my chest. There are times that I don’t notice it, but it just keeps coming back to me.

miroku1.jpg
Apparently, his name is Miroku and he’s just as cute as he is in my memory.

I remember this story a friend told us years ago. There was this girl who went nuts when she started dreaming of being inside a black hole. She could see the regular world from there. There’s not a night that she wouldn’t dream of it, but the hole to the world gets smaller and smaller night by night. There’s a certain comfort inside the hole that made her stay and to not care about exploring the world outside of it anymore. Until the night that the hole just became too small for her to leave. She was never the same person after waking up. The hole took her.

I’m just so tired lately. I just don’t feel good about myself. The world is just pacing so fast and I just don’t think about it that much because there’s no way I can explain to anyone how I’m feeling this way when I know I shouldn’t. I just wanna take off sometimes, but I don’t know where to go or what to do anymore. I don’t like living day by day thinking that I’ll do the same thing for the rest of my life. But who am I, if not the person that I am today? I will be nothing. Because there’s just nothing that I want anymore. There’s just nothing that I live for. Eventually I know I will fail those people who lean on me. I just know nothing’s gonna work if my lost of appetite for life would continue.

I don’t think I’m gonna kill myself, but if there’s something that’s gonna take me soon, I don’t think that I will still refuse to come. I am thankful for everyday, but it’s just tiring. I hope seeing people that I love happy could help, but sometimes I don’t think it’s enough.

I don’t want the blackhole inside me to be larger than I am. I just want my simple reasons to be enough again.

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