receiving wind, unbent, unmoved

I am stuck with an empty feeling today. It is like the feeling that one wishes to cry, but tears will not come. I suspect this maybe due to the large quantity of tears that fled me last night. So now I feel the wind pass through me, as if I were a ghost. Cold, empty, sorrow hums at a medium ebb.
I suppose this is the emptiness that is truly lacking, like a piece missing. Wish it were that happiness felt when all is fully empty, like a lens, softly clearing all perception from conception.
I fear Dusty drifting away, yet perhaps I am paranoid.
I fear that my body will be a source of irritation for the rest of my miserable little life. I wonder if it would be possible for me to be happy with myself.

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