Fear of the Nothing

Sometimes it comes, the fear of the nothing. Sometimes it goes, the fear of the nothing.

A formless entity, bouncing around inside like a ghost. Over time it clove its pathways, over time it gnawed at self-love and implanted viruses of shuddering fear.

It is nothing new, this fear of the nothing. But time could not always heal its tortured echoes, or selfish destructive tendency! The nothing grew in importance, and is hard to catch or face down.

Its trail left ruins over my character, and a pain born of its own void. Like an irrational counsellor, always whispering black speech to dominate the narrative of your being, it haunts, it haunts.

How do you banish the nothing? How do you banish fear?

I do not know yet, but I am on my way to discovering. I think someone wise once said the worst wounds will heal, eventually. Sure, unless you are an amputee!

Ha ha, fucking ha.

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