The Place Of Emptiness, Apathy And No Purpose

I just finished an amazing book by Donna Tartt titled The Goldfinch, and want to share a paragraph from it that sums up my feelings (and opinion) about life.

“Because I don’t care what anyone says or how often or winningly they say it: no one will ever, ever be able to persuade me that life is some awesome, rewarding treat. Because, here’s the truth: life is catastrophe. The basic fact of existence-of walking around trying to feed ourselves and find friends and whatever else we do-is catastrophe. Forget all this ridiculous ‘Our Town’ nonsense everyone talks: the miracle of a newborn babe, the joy of one simple blossom, Life You Are Too Wonderful To Grasp, &c. For me-and I’ll keep repeating it doggedly till I die, till I fall over on my ungrateful nihilistic face and am too weak to say it: better never born, than born into this cesspool. Sinkhole of hospital beds, coffins, and broken hearts. No release, no appeal, no “do-overs” to employ a favored phrase of Xandra’s, no way forward but age and loss, and no way out but death.

I know. Morbid and dark.

Emptiness is a part of me. Even in my happiest moments, it’s there, lurking in the background. Waiting. It’s almost as though that’s my foundation, with all the other emotions laying upon it, and then when those emotions pass I return to that foundation of emptiness.

I’ve had a couple of those nights lately where I’m crying in a dream, and wake up crying. The sadness overwhelms me. But once I’m up the numbness sets in, and I go through the day not feeling much of anything. Not seeing a purpose for this life. For existing.

I’m just at the point where I don’t expect good things to happen anymore. For my hard work to pay off. Hope feels like something not meant for me. Accepting where I am. What my life looks like. Going through the motions, doing what needs to be done, but not really caring.

What’s the point of hard work when the only thing that comes from your effort is more shit. Never feeling like you’re able to move forward, because things just continue breaking apart around you.

But whatever.

19 responses to “The Place Of Emptiness, Apathy And No Purpose”

  1. I understand this feeling so well. It’s hard to keep going, but something stronger than our thoughts seems to keep hope alive. I keep going back to trying to find joy in little things, like snuggling with my dogs 🙂 By the way, I have been trying to read that book but was having a hard time getting through it… does it get better? I usually enjoy Donna Tartt. Love you, hang in there ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    • I do that often, try to find joy in little things. But those things end and then I’m left right back where I started, sometimes feeling even worse. It’s as if my mind snaps back to the purposelessness of everything, of life. I don’t understand it, really I don’t.

      Liked by 1 person

      • I know what you mean, I really do. It’s so easy to say but actually being able to maintain it feels impossible. Winter is so much more difficult for me. I wish I had a magic wand that could make us all feel well. Know that I understand and love you ❤

        Liked by 1 person

        • It’s amazing how different everyone is… I tend to feel worse in the summer months. It’s just too bright, too hot, too uncomfortable, too exposed. I love the coziness of winter, and less hours of light.

          Liked by 1 person

          • It sure is! I love the summer when I can go outside and work in my garden, go for walks and be warm. In the winter, I tend to not know what to do and get more depressed. I will try to adopt your attitude and remember to think about being cozy 🙂 ❤


    • I just realized that I didn’t answer your question about the book. It’s quite dark, but if you can push through to the end, it’s SO worth it. It’s different to most books I’ve read, but it’s powerful. I’ll try write a review on it soon.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. And then there is also this you might ponder from The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt: “That life—whatever else it is—is short. That fate is cruel but maybe not random. That Nature (meaning Death) always wins but that doesn’t mean we have to bow and grovel to it. That maybe even if we’re not always so glad to be here, it’s our task to immerse ourselves anyway: wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open. “

    Liked by 1 person

  3. That is one of my favorite books. It’s dark yes, but it’s real. Life IS catastrophic and its hard and somedays we all just go through the motions and wonder whats is all for? But it is ours to live, and reach for something better. A better thought. A better feeling. Anything thats better than feeling that hope is something that isn’t meant for us. Hugs Rayne. I look forward to your full review of The Goldfinch.


  4. Ugh! I know how you feel😒 😔I remember having have rent a medium sized studio apartment that at the time and I first rented it, it was $1100. But the second year it went up to $1200. What was sad was I worked 3 jobs and I STILL fell behind in paying my rent and bills, while having little to no food to eat. It didn’t make sense…I always believed if you worked hard you SHOULD be able to afford taking care of things…but I couldn’t. It was then I decided to change my career to becoming a special ed teacher and I’m glad I did😄 I just have to pass the state exam. The things no matter HOW bad things are, don’t give up. Listen to still small voice in giving you directions to help you in YOUR life and you’ll be surprised where it will take you and how STRONG it will make you.


  5. I understand that feeling very well. I absolutely loved that book too. I loved the writing style. It captured me and didnt let me go until the last page.
    You keep hanging in there my lovely 💞


  6. I feel like you and I think very similarly about so much. I try to appreciate life’s ‘splendours’ so much, but all I feel is a profound sense of pointlessness and that my efforts are completely in vain. I’ve reached the realisation that I’m trying to get published because I want to get published, not because I think I ever will. I don’t think I will. I don’t think my idea of a good story suits the world’s idea of a good story because my views on the world are completely different to everyone else’s. My social anxiety is based on the fact that I’m nothing like anyone else and that I ALWAYS have to tone myself down in order to be even partially accepted. Life is hard and it’s very, very lonely. I hate it!


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