Nothing interesting... just pieces of me

What could be worse than crying over something you lost? It used to complete you and now it’s vanished into thin air… Probably having nothing to cry over… As you look back, you notice that your life has been worthless; you’ve owned nothing, you’ve change nothing, you’ve meant nothing. You’ve literally increased the number of population for nothing. I used to see myself as centre of my universe. I imagined that everything that gravitates around me was specially designed by someone special so that my existence would be interesting. I now see that it has been far from interesting. I find myself as a character in someone else’s story… In fact, more of a part of the setting… It might sound a cliché … but I’m hollow. Like a barrel. My thoughts rotate around my ‘hollowness’. There’s nothing here that could fill me up, and worse, I’m not filling anyone. Such a crappy feeling… maybe if I could just sleep it over…