Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I sit here and stare at this screen and nothing. So I’m going to write about this nothing. Since I have nothing to write about.

It seems that my physical pain and exhaustion is accompanied by an equal amount of non creativity, non writing, non fucking whatever… and it’s actually starting to piss me off. Is this the next step, then? Because before I just stared and then shrugged and then stopped trying.  My awareness of this lack of interest in things is difficult to describe really. I feel nothing for the things that used to make me feel. My attention is more focused on the here and now, and the here and now is dull. It lacks luster. The only thing I focus on these days is what I feel physically. It’s almost like I can only do one at a time, feel physical or emotional, but not at the same time. But I know that isn’t the case, because I can quite easily be angry while my back hurts. So I know I have emotions. I know I feel them. But the creative feel, the feel or passion for things.. creating. That is so far away from me.

Perhaps it’s like when you need to change the channel, but the remote is on the other side of the room. You cannot reach it so you stand up and walk over to it. But in this case the mere thought of standing up seems like so much work that sitting there and just watching something you dislike seems like the better choice. So sitting there watching something that you are not interested in, you zone out, or go along with it but not really that happily. The story is okay, it moves, but it’s not your thing. Why are you still watching this? Get up and get the remote, change the channel.  I think I might be stuck on a channel I never watch, with shows I never cared for, nothing grabs my attention. I remember feeling at least a sense of wonder about things, happiness even. But these days it’s not coming. And that’s not to say I’m mopey or sad or anything. I could even go so far as to say that I’m content sometimes. But I think that when I am content that is when my creativity fades. I think I have to at least feel a bit of suffering to be able to write like I used to. To be perfectly honest, I’d prefer to feel something bad instead of nothing at all. Is this what depression is like? Well it sucks. While it isn’t exactly fun to feel like one is screaming on the inside, at the very least it is passion, which is something I am severely lacking these days.

So I wrote:

Void. Abyss. Or some other dramatic word. Something that means empty… hollow… absent. Here but not here. There but not there. Moments pass in such ways that are fast and slow at the same time… dragging on and yet once gone I wonder where they went.. how long did that take? Really? It felt like less, even though during it felt like forever. Staring into space, no thoughts. Numbing quiet.

I guess that describes it.  So I think I need to go ahead and stand up to get that remote. Starting by just writing anything, free writing or rambling, using words I haven’t used in a long time. Even though when I look at this computer screen I go blank, even though I just want to shut it off and not bother with it. I will keep writing. I don’t care how bad it is, as long as I’m writing. This would be the standing up part, and with each post another step towards that remote.  I can do this.