I felt this boy whose name I couldn’t be bothered to remember grunting and heaving inside me; I was that empty and that far away. And suddenly I knew what became of all those lost balloons: they were the loves that slipped out of our fists; the blank eyes that rose in every night sky.
I can push everything into the dark.But it leaves me empty.And the dark always ends up finding me in my sleep
You can only become the observer of life, if you can perceive the world with the mind and not with the sensory organs.
The problem with making a virtual world of oneself is akin to the problem with projecting ourselves onto a cyberworld: there’s no end of virtual spaces in which to seek stimulation, but their very endlessness, the perpetual stimulation without satisfaction, becomes imprisoning.
She wasn’t sad. Not sad, more like… empty.
The emptiness that fills in when once-the-beloved says, “Who are you?
If emptiness is endless, then everything rests in emptiness.
singing has to come from the inside, and i don’t have anything left inside.’
‘really?’ Ruth said, amazed, ‘How did that happen?’
‘it all just drained out.
vertigo is something other than the fear of falling. It is the voice of emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.
The rest of my life stretches out as an emptiness before me.