
Açucarzinho583
com café!
- Sep 14, 2023
- 83
Dear Emptiness,
I wake up every day, but it's not a choice; it's a routine, an automatic repetition. The days pass by so quickly. There are no plans, no goals, just the void of an existence that follows the path others have set.
My life is like a river, without a current, flowing towards the sea. I don't swim against the tide; I just wait to reach the end. The choices I make—if I can even call them choices—are dictated by circumstances, by external pressures.
I am merely a passive observer, a spectator of this empty existence. I work because I have to work, and I sleep because that's what one does at the end of the day. The emotions I feel are vague, as if I can't express them properly. I can't remember the last time something made me truly happy or deeply sad.
I have no expectations for the future. Death doesn't scare me; it's just the final destination, the inevitable endpoint. I don't long for it, but I don't fear it either.
I wake up every day, but it's not a choice; it's a routine, an automatic repetition. The days pass by so quickly. There are no plans, no goals, just the void of an existence that follows the path others have set.
My life is like a river, without a current, flowing towards the sea. I don't swim against the tide; I just wait to reach the end. The choices I make—if I can even call them choices—are dictated by circumstances, by external pressures.
I am merely a passive observer, a spectator of this empty existence. I work because I have to work, and I sleep because that's what one does at the end of the day. The emotions I feel are vague, as if I can't express them properly. I can't remember the last time something made me truly happy or deeply sad.
I have no expectations for the future. Death doesn't scare me; it's just the final destination, the inevitable endpoint. I don't long for it, but I don't fear it either.