"Lay my hands on Heaven and the Sun and the Moon and the Stars, While the Devil wants to fuck Me in the back of His car."

When I was a teenager I had this feeling of "emptiness", and it was not the good kind of emptiness, for example what the Buddhist-philosophy teaches. 
It was the kind of feeling I have written about before, yet "the emptiness" is something more than that. It is like you are a ghost in this world. Or the world is the ghost, since nothing seems real; not you nor anything around you. 
When I was younger I had the feeling inside me, but now it feels like the world around me has turned into this empty abyss alongside me. Me and the world are vortexes pulling each other, trying to fill up this void.

Even though I feel like that at times, there are moments of blissful ignorance. If I just shut my eyes tight enough, fill my mind with enough noise, I can still feel my heart beat.

And now I am trying to fill up my mind with enough noise to quiet it down. Turn my eyes towards anything that wouldn't wake those thoughts from the abyss. Just be silent and act like you don't know the thoughts are there.

That reminded me of childhood-nightmares, where I was the only human, and my family had turned into monsters of some kind, and I had to act like I was one of them and be careful they wouldn't notice that I'm a human. I always woke up before they noticed. I wonder if they would have killed me, eaten me or ripped me to shreds? Child's mind is a funny thing. 

I feel like I should explain more about this feeling of "emptiness". I'm sure I'm not the only one who has felt like that, no matter what it means to each and everyone uniquely. Perhaps all the self-loathing, unsatisfactory relationships, years of loneliness and identity-crisis's have left their mark in me in such a way, that I feel un-alive, un-achieved, unloved, un-just-about-everything. I don't feel like my existence "gives" anything. I have no impact on anything, I can't change anything, be part of anything and I can't seem to create anything. I'm not writing this here to feel sorry about myself I am just explaining what I am. These things are known to me for many years and as my therapist has noted, I have had time to think about a lot of things. There are things hard to see or understand, especially being too close to them, but I still know - or knew - myself quite well. Yet lately my identity seems to have shifted and changed - or revealed more of its self. Yet I do not recognize it anymore. It might be this depression that makes thinking and observing a tad more difficult than before.

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I still feel inspiration stirring, but it pains me not to be able to do anything about it. I'm constantly exhausted, unable to survive from the simplest of tasks, and I have to make pictures I already promised to make. Frustration creeps up. Patience is not one of my virtues.