Nov 25, 2003 23:36
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Is this help or healing?
A lie or real?
I can't tell.
Perhpas everything I thought I felt, thought I knew was a lie. A figment of my fertile imagination.
Because I am emptiness, and hollowness. Silence inside.
All quiet on the Western Front.
And I think, I always think, I should feel more. I should feel differently. I should feel something.
Except that I feel nothing.
And I wonder if I felt pain it would make things real. It would make what happened real. It would make pain valid. It would make memory valid, instead of things in a half light.
Nothing. Hollowness and emptiness, redefining the past. Smoothing it over, until it is as placid, or as deceptive as the sea.
hollowness & emptiness,
lyrical