When hollowness creeps up on you in a sure steady pace and you're up against the wall of your skull knowing there is no way out and it is going to get you somehow, panic and frenzy ensues. Low of lows, emptiness flows through the chambers of your heart like liquid nitrogen; freezing the warmth of your blood that's been gushing through you with life. You recognize this experience of being down in the gutters of bleakness. You want to purge it out but it remains within your rectum like dehydrated stool in what seems to be the most glorious form of constipation. Enema falls short of being effective as it only manages to soften the outermost surface of the stool of emptiness and let the little washed out waste dribble out of the anus with no sign of total assuagement. I use enema here as an analogy for short-lived life purposes I have seemed to have been engrossed in throughout these years. None have seemed to hold my steadfastness toward seeing it through to measuring heights...
A thought junkie in search of a raison d'ĂȘtre.