Lately there's been a void within me. Something that I can't define nor describe. Just an emptiness that persists no matter how much sound I surround myself with or food I stuff down my throat. At times I feel everything, other times there's nothing. I'm more scared of feeling nothing. That sense of unknown; not knowing yourself is terrifying. When that emptiness returns, I'm scared. I'm scared of how much more of myself will be lost to this void. So I day dream. I dream of a version of me with all the ideals I can imagine. Other than the typical vanity aspects, I dream that I am able to trust more. Not just others, but myself. I dream that I live a life full of emotion, a balance of bad and good. I let myself stay in that world for however much time I want, yet in the back of my mind there has always been a cautionary whisper. It tells me to not wander too far into that world. You'll never come back, it says. You've already lost a part of yourself, you want to lose more? And I wonder if I really want to come back. What is keeping me here? A sense of duty to my parents? A hope that one day this numbness will change? Or some of the bull "find positivity"? 

And I wonder why I write these things. I wonder why I make it seem my life is so pitiful. The more I consider the situation as it is, the more the guilt of it eats away at me. I have nothing to be sad about. Nothing against me. Nothing harming me. Nothing killing me. I have nothing to be sad about. I'm nothing. 

I deal with it by talking to people. And those people say that it's good to talk to people. I make it seem like they've gained my trust. I pretend that my deepest secrets are spilled. But those secrets aren't even clear to me. 

Maybe me writing in this site that I have long abandoned, is my attempt at forcing that void to open up. This site that is faceless and I'm anonymous. Stupid that I trust this more than my own parents.

A little remedy for my nothingness.