I have talked so many times before abou the void.
It has been chasing me for so long that now, I ain’t even scared of it. He is me, I am him. My void.
It canot be filled. Though, I try. I try to feed him nice bracelets and rings, shoes, clothes. Sometimes, bags and markers, books, so many books.
But my void is always unhappy, nothing I give him at any point helps him feel less alone.
My void is a huge empty nothing, where nothing that goes in signifies much and where nothing that’s already in can do much. It’s like a black hole.
Devouring me, all these years.
I think I want to give up.
I can’t keep fighting it