i contest the saying that you cant miss something you’ve never had. yeah fine, i can’t miss it but i still know that i’m missing it. i can literally feel the void – a physically empty space in my body that emotions like love and affection should be filling and constantly replenishing. the annoying thing that gets me is that this space is empty but so, so heavy. i was never able to quite wrap my head around that. how can being completely hollow feel the weight of tons of iron bricks? some days i can ditch a few of them on the side of the road, but for the most part, they have taken permanent residence inside of me. ive tried to rationalize my seemingly misguided pessimism and indifference by slapping myself, metaphorically of course, across the face to snap out of it. but i can never shake the feeling or the weight. happy people sometimes make me sick. i dont know if its because im green with envy or black with segregation. i struggle with how to communicate with these people. i cant relate to your joy and you cant relate to my pain, so let’s just, like, i donno, talk about the weather? are you all fooling yourselves, or are you truly content with so many aspects of your life? how can you be when there is so much ugly in this world? are you sheltered from it all? do you just turn a blind eye? have you never experienced sadness? have you never been lost, unloved, degraded, abused? am i just living in a completely different world than everyone else? i don’t understand it. sure i could trick myself into happiness for the sake of it, but when buzz wears off and i retreat back to my bed, my mind, my thoughts, the darkness is still there. just because i turn the lights on during the day, it doesn’t make the night less real or less dark. when i was younger, i never really fantasized about getting swept away by some prince charming man like most girls dreamt about, i assume. i actually have no idea, i was born the wrong gender (great job, God). but i always wanted some long lost family i’d never knew about to show up on my doorstep with a “LOL JK SURPRISE! you’ve actually got a huge cuddly family and we’re all gonna love the shit of you for the rest of your pathetic, lonely life whether you like it or not!” yeah fine, it’s a enormous improbability but damn it, can’t a girl dream? well, no because dreaming is useless its attainable. at some point, dreaming becomes and excuse for endless whining saturated in self pity, greed, and laziness. my dream is futile because the reality is im stuck right where i am. my mythical family does not exist and never will at any time, anywhere, ever. its just me, myself and i; it always has been and it will always will be. once i realized this, like truly internalized this, things became easier and i became stronger. by no means was this an overnight epiphany – its been many years of angsty depression and misanthropy, and i still sometimes catch myself daydreaming about getting swept back to that safe place that i’ve been so cruelly exiled from. but i know better than that. now i am attempting to operate within this darkness with some sense of clarity. im gaining somewhat of a morbid type of freedom, lingering somewhere between indifference and fearlessness – a strange balance of not caring about caring too much about not caring. i can only explain it as a fire burning through a hail storm. i am the fire. the rest of the world is the hail.