Existence

I woke up on a plane of non-existence. That wasn't a new place for me. A vast emptiness and nothingness. I had five seconds to go back, a window, but I stayed floating for an hour because time is not a concept there. Nothing, not even time, exists in there.

I looked around knowing nothing to see. I felt that I, too, does not exist. That I belong there instead of here. I was once a part of that plane. I'm empty and hollow in all the truth.

I carved myself out to separate from an empty world. Became a fragment of nothing. Forcing myself to something. I willed myself to exist. That was how I came to be.

In the real world, I was formed, and be who I became. But looking inside, I'm nothing. Not a soul. Not a being. Just a hollow with a luck for sentience. This reality accepted me sure enough, but emptiness demands her pieces back. Nothing is empty if it isn't absolute. I had to will myself to exist again. And be back beyond the wall of the void.

I woke up again. Haze enveloped my head as I attempted to contemplate. What am I now? Where is this going? What comes after all of this? It was a dream... it did not exist. The void will call once again for I too do not exist.