(This room is literally empty, all I have is a blanket rn. I'm in the middle of moving)

I'm writing this in an empty room, with an empty heart, and an empty thought process.

Everything I write is natural, and may make zero sense to others- but it makes perfect sense to me.

Do you know that feeling,
emptiness?

I'm sorry, that I do.

I try not to think about it.

Maybe if I try hard enough, I won't be empty.
But instead, I begin to feel tired. Cold.

Maybe it's because I see no future with me in it, or maybe it's just because I'm attached to my depression.

I'm not even depressed.