Looking back at my own writings from 1993, I found something that’s worth bringing back. I was depressed out of my mind then. Most of my writings from that period were so bitter and self-pitying. This one seems to show some honesty of my true feelings then. It may sound tacky and clichéd, but I was sincere. It’s hard for me to believe now that I actually felt this way. I feel like it was someone else who wrote it. I feel sorry for him.
The room you are in has nothing:
White walls, windows with a view of the sky.
You don’t know anybody.
You don’t have anything.
Time is endless.
The emptiness frightens you.
You would rather be sleeping most of the time to avoid the emptiness.
But you are tormented by your own dreams.
The feeling of loneliness chills your spine.
Your strength and courage are drained from the battle with the emptiness.
You either win or lose.
If you lose, that is the end of your existence.
If you win, you gain nothing.
You give up everything.
There you have void, solitude, and timelessness.
There you see the world rightly.
There you smile at the emptiness.
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