Empty

Sit on this black chair, looking for some reason to continue with my life, I started this simple text. Okay, lets me explain to you, I don't want to die anymore, I already fixed this subject. I just put it off, but fortunately or unfortunately I cannot find a single reason to stay alive, though. Do you know? There isn't a motive to move on. Whether you really think about the life you'll arrive at the same point that I am now: Life is empty.

Could you answer what is the fuck reason are we here? I doubt it. An empty world with seven billion lives, did it makes sense for you? Everybody pretends don't really care about that, put them busy all the time. I can't-do the same. Why do I think so much about this stuff? What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you? Seriously, don't you see what I mean? I don't think so. When I talk with someone else about that they realise how much empty they are too, and totally agree with me saying: I don't know, I just pretend.

As I saw in somewhere, "I write because you exist" and I complete this sentence with "even if I don't know why". Anyone does. Life is amazing though, don't think? I mean, we don't know anything about that but we enjoy to live. Beautiful places, poetry/literature, music, people, all kind of emotion and many other things make it enjoyable, I could say it's interesting. Every moment is unique.

Even though, I would like to know why we are here. Is there some reason? Please, tell me the answers to all these questions that horsing around us. Something willing to help me get up from that chair and go to the bed. A long time I don't sleep very well and I really need to hit the sack, even if I won't wake up anymore. In a way, I guess that if I sleep forever by now, it could save my illness mind from this madness known as life.