There is nothing in me, I am a hollow man. Empty and unable to feel anything passionately, I walk this Earth as a meaningless and nearly invisible entity. My ability to give anything is not in question when there’s no substance from which to draw. This is getting to be a frustrating way to live.

Meds are holding me together and keeping the meltdown at bay. Meds are all that stands between me and reverting back into depression.  Meds are a blessing and a curse in that they keep me from feeling the depth of my pain.

Grrr is all I can muster. Meaningless really. A fluffy trite expression of frustration. But heck, that’s all I can say at this point.

I am a creative being and have always been. When the void that exists now persists it is even more crushing. I just want to contribute. I want to bring my life with all its downfalls and momentary victories and tell that story in a way that will somehow help another. I guess I am just not ready. I hate the time between doing and being and nothing.

Not looking for someone to tell me how to navigate everything, just ready to be through this stage.  Ready to pick up my guitar and have a song come forth. Ready to write, express, be real and accessible.

Christmas cannot save this soul. The church putting on a program cannot erase all the pain and hurt it has inflicted. Until I find a church that does more than parrot religious dogma, but meets people at the place they are, wherever that may be, I will still be searching.



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