Without Within

What is there, over there?

There is nothing

But then again, what is nothing?

I was born at the bottom of a pit where no light shone

As if it was… afraid of me. Afraid to fill up that nothing within me

As if pressed together by the darkness Uncertain of what to become Born under those dark, dark sediments Born under those abhorrent impressions

I had a white form My comrades were all in pure black

Would that mean, that I was, that I am… different? Or was my body a renounced canvas, empty and so untouchable not even the darkness would risk itself in my proximity?

In those black forms, with their eyes shining and teeth baring, they were certainly eating something. And then...

There was nothing to me, except my eyes.

The void was still there, and it remained that way, maybe grew even stronger as I ripped off and devoured limb after limb, heart after heart.

And yet the emptiness remained, more absolute than the reality of this inane world.

I felt nothing No, rather It was possible that what I felt was truly a "void", yet I could hear nothing, I could bite nothing I could smell nothing I could feel nothing as I touch I could not rest I had no companion Nothing but nothing

Just walking, alone

The things reflected in my eyes have no meaning The things that could not be reflected in my eyes, do not exist.

Walking Endlessly walking

Where the pit ended, the desert began. Where the light first hadn’t dared to caress me, now suffocated me within its insurmountable grasp.

And yet still, it reflected in my eyes and held no meaning.

When I had arrived at that thought I have found something extraordinary

It was, somewhat, the place of birth for those strange, translucent objects that dotted this world. It was the first time my eyes have been captured.

And when my eyes where the only thing to me. I followed them.

With no colour, With no sound, With no scent, Does not interact with anything, It only exists there.

It was the closest existence to "void" that I had ever laid eyes on.

It was, maybe, the closest thing that I had ever found “true”.

I sank my body into that great "void"

My whiteness not illuminating it slightly.

There was nothing there, Even I had lost my line of vision, and dissolved into the void, And when my eyes vanished it felt as if everything had disappeared.

Happiness.

But it didn’t work.

The “void” chipped off my mask, and suddenly I no longer could only see. I could hear something, I could bite something I could smell something I could feel something as I touch I could rest But still nothing reflected in my eyes And I was alone

The void grew larger Smaller More infinite Less nowhere

And there was the man. He offered me… To fill the void

But even though my body was born anew, and my existence was now another, I was still empty.

I returned to the “void”, tamed it, made it my weapon. Through its translucence the light shined on me, streamed around me like a rock in a riverbed. But my soul was still impenetrably empty.

The endless sorrow pouring down my face Is in no way representative of how I… feel Because feeling cannot be reflected into my eyes It cannot exist

When the man asked me to crush my eyes I did When the man asked me to kill a boy I did When the man asked me to join his group I did

But camaraderie was wasted upon me. Their heads were full of feelings, troubles, thoughts. Their souls, stirring, whirling, restless. Not like a hollow.

I was the true hollow. Within and without.

I hid my powers. Who would understand the nothingness of the “void” I wielded? Who would comprehend my despair, my true Hollow-like despair?

But the man is smart And wisdom leads to answers Answers lead to questions Questions are nihil

Maybe, once, sometimes, forever, surely, not. Within I am restless Without I am

If such a thing called happiness exists in this world, it should be something which resembles the limitless nothingness. Something that resembles “true despair”.

Nihilism is having nothing, and having nothing to lose. If that isn't "happiness", then what is?

Others cannot understand. They will not understand What they behold as nothing is everything in my eyes

We feed off the ignorant We fight against the stubborn We die because of the wise

The things reflected in my eyes have no meaning The things that could not be reflected in my eyes, do not exist.

There is nothing

No thing

In you

And in me

But less within Than more without