Emptiness

i am in introspection at thiz very moment. weighing the world as if every right iz mine. thinking incessantly ’til diz mind goes mad. the people, the places… both animate and inanimate objects fill mine vision. and all of them collide within. things parade right before me, the present, the past, and the future infuse. is this confusion? any more than lunacy? this pathetic affliction is reduced to mere illusion. a trick of the senses. mine mind is a battlefield of warring emotions. conflicting ideas of what is tried to be understood. now i know what the poets felt. their state of morbidity, wanderlust, shame, ignorance, joy, grief and insanity… all rolled up into one insignificant emotion—emptiness
Emptiness…

…that which we ignored from the beginning. the void slot within each and everyone of us. what are we seeking? what do we want? and why aren’t we ever satisfied? couldn’t life’s brief interludes fill that which is empty? aren’t we fulfilled from the fleeting substitutes we try so much to inject into our lives? what iz wrong then? we always wake up to the same morning, thinking that maybe “this would be the day”… and if it is, a day for what? for something different?… something out of everyday ordinary? tough luck! for whatever it is that we do… we are still empty within.

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