The End

I have been trying to write for a few weeks now, but because of the chaos on the home front after the move, I can't. But I think this is just the good excuse of a reason to why I haven't. The more I think about it though, the more I try to reflect, or to dig down deep, the more I realize that...there's nothing there. Nada. Zip. Zilch.
I'm also too quiet inside my heart... I try to stir up conversations with ones around me, but they don't really peak my interest. There's no fascination. No amazement. Usually my mind has a million thoughts running through it, especially reflective thoughts of things such as how are Cocoa Puffs made, to say, contemplating the existential universal purpose of dust bunnies. But now, there's nothing there.

So I tried to look within these past few days, deep deep deep, and the only thing that I found was an echo of nothingness. I'm...empty.

So out of curiosity, I googled the word: empty. The first thing that came up was:
empty — Determine whether a variable is empty
Determine whether a variable is considered to be empty. A variable is considered empty if it does not exist or if its value equals FALSE.empty() does not generate a warning if the variable does not exist.

*Pinch* - ouch! I guess I still exist. Phew!!

Then, I looked it up in the dictionary:
emp·ty
adjective

1.

containing nothing; having none of the usual or appropriate contents

2.

vacant; unoccupied

3.

without cargo or load

4.

destitute of people or human activity

Bingo! ...and I'd have to agree as I feel just like that. Having none of my usual contents, I'm unoccupied, without cargo and destitute of any human activity (meaning I feel more like I'm running on auto-pilot/robot).
There were also a whole bunch of suggested images for the word "empty". Empty rooms, empty bottles, empty roads, empty beds, empty chairs, etc. But none of those resonated with me, just this one:

Ironically, it feels sorta good to be empty. Yes there is no happiness, but there's no anger either. There is no joy but also no resentment. There is no love but also no painful longing. There is nothing. But, what there is, is a clean slate. For everything. So then let me be empty. So that I can again be full.