It's been quite sometime since I've felt this urge to fill this space. Maybe it's the wee morning, the serenity of it, the loneliness- but wait, I'm not lonely. I have so much to be thankful for, so much to be happy for, yet there's that damn blackhole I keep falling into.

It feels so perfect, and flawed in many ways. I want to take a step back, and watch that space but too late for that now. The turmoils of an impatient soul. At this point in time, life seems so fulfilling, yet empty at the same time.

I find solace in self pity, and I pity myself for doing that. Pathetic.