No Amount of Dick, Money or Fame Will Ever Fill Your Void
(4 minute read) — Question-filled entering of the void. Venture at your own risk.
Welcome to Estimated Time of Arrival, your Wednesday newsletter where yours truly, Paula Romeu-Garcia, chats sh!t about life and drops nuggies of wisdom sometimes.
Enter the void.
Only statements which hold truth can hurt us. Read that again.
If they were total BS and we were healed people, we wouldn’t care.
This headline, though, hit me like a poisonous arrow, Written by someone as close to me as two people can be.
After the anger and offendedness subdued, I wondered,
beyond their meanness, could they be at least a tad right?
The void speaks.
Is my fate to seek and never find? To get and never keep? To desire and never achieve? To always fall short by a little bit…
Wake up one day at age 90 wondering why I still feel empty inside.
I know what you’re thinking, you ain't supposed to think like this. You’re meant to keep a positive mindsetude. A smile on your face :)
But the only way I know how to get to the bottom of things is by staring down the barrel of those questions. Then, finding arguments powerful enough to vanish them.
Ramadan has been a very introspective time pour moi. My void and avoidance have become even more painfully blatant.
(Yet I’d do it again next year)
What I’ve been wondering.
Is this inner void universal?
Is it the curse or privilege of some or is nobody free from its tentacly embrace?
What is this itch, this ache, this emptiness?
While staring at the void within, which, if you’re anything like me you might have been aware of since you began thinking, consider this:
If we’re a microcosmic representation of the Universe, then this void is like a baby black hole. Still incomprehensible to science, yet real. With the potential to sucker you in, leaving you lost, disoriented, and, at worst, if you let it, ruining your life.
A black hole that craves, longs, and wishes to be satiated with the worst and the best vices and pleasures.
Or else.
A void we try to avoid but it’s unavoidable because it might be an intrinsic part of who we are.
Here’s the thing.
If the atom is really 99% empty space and humans are made of atoms, then…Aren’t we mostly empty space anyway, in other words, void?
Physically it makes sense. But what's the internal void that longs to be filled?
Our brokenness? Unhealed trauma? Fear?
Is the “dick, money and fame” thing a lazy attempt by the ego to quiet that enigmatic part of ourselves (even if just for a bit)?
How to make the void, void.
We can sit in meditation and observe it. Or judge it, hate it and fill it with vices and one-night stands. We can accept it and tell it it’s beautiful and loved.
It doesn’t matter. My rejection or acceptance doesn’t make it less real.
Perhaps to understand it, we need to consider the times when we’re not consciously aware of it—when, one could say, the void itself is void.
I’ve noticed when I’m in a flow state, genuinely having a good time with my closest confidants, working out or dancing salsa (as of recently), or doing things that help or benefit other people and not solely myself, the void is puff, gone.
It’s as good as if it wasn’t there at all.
So, could our introspectiveness be the root cause of its existence in the first place? The mulling over our past, our hurt, being anxious about the future.
Is our presence the light that vanishes its shadows away?
💡
Not writing to the void.
Avoiding writing because I’m afraid it will suck, and nobody will care only deepens my sense of emptiness, my discomfort.
I could numb this feeling with distractions, like smoking weed and watching TV, but it would still be there, and worsen, like the No-face guy.
But when I drag my pretty arse to the chair and do it, really focus, there's no emptiness. Connected to something greater, to my purpose, my faith, a raison d'être I heal the void.
We’re not supposed to say 🙄 but for shizzle psychs, especially LSD, shrooms, Aya, and DMT can be for some people a crash course in understanding and healing the void too.
All this ramble to tell you, being here with you every week is my privilege and delight. When I do, fulfilment eclipses the emptiness in ways other, more immediate pleasures, can’t.
Perhaps dick, money and fame will never fill our void.
But knowing I’m not speaking to a void anymore because you’re here, is fulfilling a tender part inside. So, thank you.
Gracias for being here with me another week, dear reader.
What does the void mean to you? How do you interact with it? Is it ever-present or does it vanish sometimes? If so, how?
Like or comment if you’re sexy. Look forward to unravelling the mysteries of the deep together.
Agápe,
Paula x
Lies can hurt you in many ways. That's why you are not supposed to bear false witness against your neighbor.
A long time ago, Truth and Falsehood went swimming naked in a pond. Falsehood got out first and grabbed Truth's clothing so as to have the appearance of Truth. From then on. rather than go about in Falsehood's clothing, Truth went naked.
Nobody likes the naked Truth, and that's why public nudity is illegal in most jurisdictions today.
Money I could use more of. More dick is useless to me. Fame would be a profound negative.
The void can be a very pleasant place to live if you don't ask anything of it. It asks nothing of you.