Becoming Nothing

I have a family.
I have more money than I need.
I have the best possible form for a 30-year-old healthy person.
I have all the time in the world.
I have internet-devices providing all kinds of entertainment.
I have access to all kinds of delicious food to stuff myself.
I have access to all kinds of alcohol and drugs to numb myself.
I have an ID card that lets me live in a peaceful society.
I have a car in front of my place that can take me to all kinds of beautiful places.
I have friends, with who I can hang out, go around, hug, cuddle and do other stuff.
I have a job, with which I can get frustrated, get creative, and get challenged.
I have some level of self-love and some level of life-acceptance.
I have all kinds of spiritual, physical, creative, recreational activities.
I have people to help and care about.
I have faith in something.
I have all kinds of colorful feelings, bright and dark ones.
I have gratitude for small and big things.
I have plans and dreams.
One more thing I have, a huge dark space.

The funny thing is, none of those things in the world is enough to fill that space. I feel like I am a free human with all I have, as much as I am a slave of all I have.

space

This emptiness. Was it there? Or was it created? Am I trying to fill it or am I creating it? Is it my attempt of filling, which creates the space?

Is it my solution which creates the problem?

Is it my freedom making me a slave? What is so scary about nothing, which pushes me towards all other things?

I am not able to enjoy the day for too long without knowing what the night has for me. I can distract myself only too long under the shining sun in the blue sky before the moon catches me under the shining stars in the dark sky.

killing myself

I enjoy playing with the idea of killing myself, without killing the body. It is as simple as just walking out the door with only my clothes on, nothing else. I am walking, and walking, away from everything, which was once me. Each step away from me is like a drop of blood from a dying body. Each drop of my blood is racing with a drop of tear. All those things I left behind. One by one going through my mind. Tears soon join the race with the steps. I am in pain, caused by the things I have left behind, caused by the people in pain I have left behind. I am walking in one direction, there will be no way back. I was Selim. I am just a body now. I am nobody to anybody now. I had everything. I also have everything now. I am complete now. I am nothing. Nothing is missing. Almost like the first day of a baby.

Love gives me direction more than fear now.

On my new journey, I will die to find some of those little things I have lost. Each time I reach, it will be as a first time, not granted, never was. I will enjoy it fully, every second of it. I will not have doubts in direction. I will just follow my internal compass, I hope it will be visible to me in the cleanest form.

walking out myself

What is stopping me? Is it love of having things and people? Or is it fear of losing things and people? I would very much like to be a brave lover, but I am just a coward platonic, for a long time and to this day.

Will I lose my given life? Will I win my own life?
Will I kill my given self? Will I give birth to my own self, this time?

I know how to kill myself without killing my body.
Can I walk out myself without walking out my body?
Can I learn how to walk out myself without walking out my body?