Lexicon of Sentiments

The Filler of Empty Spaces

There is beauty in empty spaces where you solely know you may be the only being existing, yet the things around you are simply alive and breathing.

I found solace in empty spaces where I am the sole filler that keeps it intact.

In abandoned places no one has touched for years, I stand there quietly trying to grasp whether I am supposed to cease to exist. 

When the cockcrow hasn't waved its hands, so I sit in empty chairs, with flickering lights; I thank the universe for letting me have this moment to cherish by myself. 

In the night rides inside the jeepney where I noticed the unfilled spaces of people's houses, I imagine myself yearning profoundly—for reminiscing are for the figments of the mind, yet the emotions are where we rely.

It is fulfilling to have people beside you bridging the gap between unfamiliar noises in your mind. However, it is incomparable in spaces where you solely try to open a flesh of yourself you haven't seen and touched with time.

For all I know, understanding one's existence and feeling its resistance is the act of filling the empty spaces where proximity can pull up one's stance.

For there are times, we wait to be filled through other people's cup, we tend to forget to pour into our own.

You need to be the filler of the empty spaces to cross the undiscovered to the known.