Apr 20, 2015
It's easy to envy when other people walk on something solid. That there's a firm belief in something, a firm grounding in some value, that causes them to stand and smile. That they can smile and chime "hello" and have something sturdy to return to. That they've built a home, hammered in the nails.
When you are alone and the voices and nails and beliefs of other people fall away like dried flakes of skin, you see that you were nothing but a plastered patchwork of everyone else. When these patches fall away you are full of holes, and inside you is empty.
Even waves of overwhelming sadness is substance. Substance keeps you existing. If you can feel- if you have words- if you are hit with sheets of pain- you are still full. When you are angry, you are full. When you have treasure troves of knowledge that mean something personal to you. You are full. Being full fills you up with substance, whether sunshine or water or blood. What's difficult is being empty.
In your heart there is a hole. That hole transcends the world and realm that you know; you bleed into outer space. If you look closely into the hole you see galaxies far far away. Lots of empty space - darkness - weightlessness - if you are caught off-guard, it sucks everything out of you, a vacuum. Somewhere in your heart the loneliness of the universe, the blank space and the infinite emptiness, the nothingness calls out in grief to you. A gaping nothing. When you live in perspective of that emptiness, trudging through the day is hard. Doing things is hard, because everything is empty, as you are.
It's not a strong emptiness. Anything that's strong is substance. It simply is, and you can stuff the hole with things that look meaningful or things to help you cope but the hole sucks away and remains ever there. In perspective of it you are hollow.
end; 7:00 PM