Sometimes I get sad and stare at something for a while.
Pick a thing. Sad. Stare at it. Sad.
Sometimes for hours. Sometimes it just feels that way.
Sometimes, it isn’t sad. It just is what it is and I’m staring at it being what it is, being who I am. The emptiness of it holds me there. Somehow.
Silence. Everything. Nothing. Staring. Endless.
This is one of those things.