Monday, October 10, 2011
Drifter
I'm floating around an empty room. Content. Nothing is wrong but I guess nor is it right. There is nothing. No emotion. No inspiration. No motivation. Everything about me is based on nothing and therefore I am non-existent, absent, invisible. I am hesitating. I have the time but I find excuses. I walk in circles staring at my feet as if they were someone else's. How the fuck did I get here? Where the fuck did I come from?
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"Aching in my soul, wanting to rip right through my skin, is a pain I feel inside me, locked somewhere deep within.
ReplyDeleteIt binds and bonds me firmly and I don't know what it needs, but it's hungry and it's eating. Off my aching soul it feeds."
It's the human condition, my dear.
It's existentialism in it's prime.
You have to decide for yourself what you're going to fill the emptiness with.