Emptiness

It is in such moments that one is left alone with oneself – face to face with the void.Sometimes the world seems to freeze, drowning in its own stillness, as if the very emptiness had spilled across the sky and the earth. In such moments, the border between outer and inner fades away, leaving behind only quiet void. From the depths of this non-being emerge faint outlines of doubt and loneliness – like shadows on the edge of sight. This bottomless silence both terrifies and fascinates – an infinite hush in which a thousand untold stories have drowned. It is not mere absence: the void is filled with unspoken words, unrealized meetings, and unfulfilled hopes – all echoing heavily within the soul. Inside a person, silence resounds as a hollow echo – a reverberation of muffled doubts and lost dreams.

In the east a new day is already glimmering, yet its first rays cannot dispel the shadow that has settled upon his heart.The night air stands still; not a single sound disturbs the silence. In the dim lamplight, tiny dust motes dance, and the city seems to hold its breath. In that pause between darkness and dawn, someone – solitary, wakeful – listens to the silence, hoping to catch an answer, but hears only his own heart. Doubt wraps around his soul like mist over an empty field. Within him the cold void spreads – vast as a starless sky before sunrise. The chill seeps under his skin, yet he barely feels it – for the cold within is far greater.

But no – the world outside is as empty as the one within, and even this overflow is merely imagination, a play of shadows on the wall of my lonely room.I am an empty man. No – rather, I am filled to the brim with emptiness. This void presses on my chest, rings in my ears, and seeps through my veins like frost. Sometimes it feels as if it spills over, flooding everything around me.

In the single window lies the night – thick as ink – and it feels as though the night itself peers inward, studying me like a curious specimen in a jar.My room is narrow, like a stone cell forgotten underground. Half-light hides in the corners beneath the table and the crooked wardrobe. The walls were once bright, but now, in the gloom, strange grey stains creep along them in whimsical shapes – like faces, or maps of unknown lands.