Its becoming exhausting, finding reasons to stay alive for. its not that a calamity has befallen me. neither have I had a loss of a loved one. i wish it were that, if only I had a legitimate reason for this sadness, this emptiness. an explanation. Chronic Discontent, says google. that’s what i have apparently. its also a sin to be chronically dissatisfied with your life, according to pretty sure the Quran follows suit. not that i care. there are no real emotions that i can call mine. they’re all a reflection, mirrorred actions and expressions. smile and all will be fine. there is nothing that makes my heart move, nothing i can feel in my chest. an emptiness. sometimes i wonder if i have a heart at all, and then i remember how ridiculous that sounds. of course i have a heart, but then why dont i feel it. why dont i feel joy. the only emotion i can call real and mine is sadness. nothingness. no light. just a hollow vessel that beats and will one day stop. the only moment its not hollow is when i see my own flesh and the blood pouring out, its real. i am real. i exist. i am made of muscle and i bleed when cut. its a moment of realization. gone in an instant. and then we’re back to square one.

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