l'apple du void

a very brief explanation of hopelessness

L'appel du void
That's what the french say. The call of the void. An urge to step forward, to feel the rush of air against the skin, the falling.

One single step

The step feels a thousand miles. I am waiting for something to change. On off, light dark, one step forward or one step back. A dislodged pepple, caught in the gale, rolls over the edge. I watch it fall, see it slowly spin in the air, water droplets falling off it as it bounces of the sturdy cliff face once, twice, trice before disappearing into the charming spray. The rocks below, encrusted with beautifully sharp barnacles, protrude like teeth from the gaping maw of the sea. The air has changed, laced with the scent of toasted almonds. A fork of lightening splits the sky.

I am alone.

We come into this world alone and we die alone. All our family, all our friendships, count for nothing. The flowers of love withering with the last shuddering breath. We are supposed to be happy here. This was the beginning, the point where I was supposed to start living, really living as we are meant to but I don't like this change. On that cliff I tripped and fell, I wish to have steady feet, I wish to be balanced. I've realised that void that calls me, pulls me forward with a painful tug, yet with the the warmth of familiarity.
L'appel du vide

It's not the void that is calling me, it is the lack of a call from where I sit watching, watching with my vacant stare, it is you who calls me. But I am neither ready to let you go, nor answer your call. So ill close my eyes and wait for change, for change can't be permanent, it won't be permanent