Feeling, unfeeling
There is nothing more tiring and worrisome than the feeling of emptiness. That kind of emptiness, not an empty stomach, or an empty house, or an empty bank account, an insatiable emptiness in feeling, in your soul. When you feel that kind of emptiness, you add filler to stuff the space hoping it will let you feel content, but it’s only filler. It keeps you content for so long, until you need more. And more. And more. Cheap thrills, booze, false quick companionship, meaningless dialogue, just to keep you busy and full for that moment. Then the night turns into day and you’ve gained nothing and you’re still empty. Running on empty, that lights been lit on the dashboard for so long. It’s scary how little miles are left until you will stop, stranded, shut down. And the next filler is nowhere in sight.
