I woke up hollow again today, feeling like a shell emptied by troubling dreams. The world looks different on days like today, as though I see clearer than I ever have before. The world, though still in color, is simplified and I feel smaller somehow. I move slower, my brain more attuned to every aspect of my surroundings. My life can be summed up in a sentence. I feel like crying.

It's so hard to cry. I have to subject myself to outside sources, a movie or music, and focus on the pain. I focus, staring off into nothing and concentrate on my tear ducts, willing the salt water to push past, the orgasm of tears. That was my life so far today except no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get anything out. I'm still waiting for that feeling of release, that feeling of relief that I crave so desperately.

Really, there's no point. What is the point of any of this?