Nothing is everything.

 The problem is that I can't tolerate feeling FULL.
 Will I be so empty inside that I become intolerant of a feeling of excessive satiety? 
Will I be so comfortable with emptiness?
 Can emptiness weigh so much?
 Nothing is everything, apparently.
 I can't find words to express the feeling of beautiful emptiness that invades me afterwards. 
I need Freshness to put out the flames of the internal burning of the flesh. I feel something like happiness, how will I want to stop doing it?
Poor meat ... So innocent, poor body ... So flagellable, poor soul ... So damaged.
Poor eyes, broken, seem to be consumed by suffering. They have a look so sad, so deplorable, so tired, so red and bleeding.