www.whyville.net Jan 19, 2014 Weekly Issue

Guest Poet

The Meaning of Nothing

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Life is made up of nothings.

Times when your life is empty, when you feel like you are worthless. When something is taken away, and you feel as if nothing will ever take its place.

When you're standing there, watching. Watching the tiny black screen making a noise every once in a while. Watching.

He needs you, and you can't even do anything about it.

You're watching the helpless, lifeless figure. Just lying on the bed, completely still. And that's when you know. You know that there is nothing. Nothing, when you have been left alone in the room by yourself. When your parents have been taken outside to hear the news that they think you can't handle. And all of a sudden, the pale green hospital room, the one that smells like disinfectant and pain, the one that has been your torture chamber and yet your whole life is surrounded by it, starts to spin. You feel as if you are nothing, because it seems to you everything is floating away. It's all gone. Your brother is dying, your friends are leaving, and all the pieces are dropping into the bottomless pit of never going back. You want to leave, but you shouldn't. Because all of that nothing . . . is something. Everyone suffers, everyone loses. If the nothingness stayed with every failure, there would be no life, no world. Because every time a nothing falls into place, it is replaced by a wonderful something. The death of a family member, the warm hug of a friend. You need to make those somethings. It may feel as if you are sinking into a binding abyss, choking you with every day you are stuck, but there is a shimmering line of hope that's tied to you, ready to pull you out. It is happy memories, and to save yourself, you must carry on. Life may be nothing, but your life is something.


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