This is a repeat of that situation, of that phenomenon that happened back in 2008 when all my Christianity and mystical ideals fell away.

Now that I am here, in the midst of it, I can describe it. There is a sense of meaninglessness, a sense of a void, a sense of emptiness in the universe, in myself, and in the fabric of reality. There is not even the intense longing to speak of; there is only a sense of pain, dull in the heart, though this could be longing of some form, but it is not strong at all.

I cannot tell you who I am. “Stevo” means relatively little at this point. Instead, here is a human, typing these words, and who, or perhaps what, he is is a mystery.

There is a sense of dying at some point. There is a sense of my giving into death. This isn’t frightening. On the contrary, it just seems ordinary, perfunctory, even, and so I allow it to just go ahead. So what if I die? Nothing more can happen then.

There is no sense of God. There is no sense of anything in the world other than the physical universe, and even then it is completely devoid of anything purposeful. One could try to wonder and be fascinated and intrigued by all things, but that simply isn’t a part of this experience.

There is no sense of a spiritual dimension of reality. Please understand, I am not saying that it does not exist or that it is not part of this physical world. I am not making any kind of presuppositions. I am merely typing and reporting this experience, as it happens.

There’s a distinct sensation of almost pain inside of my brain, deep inside of it, perhaps around the thalamus or hypothalamus, but I cannot be sure. It isn’t an outright pain, but there’s the threat of a pain, if you can grasp that.

The world seems devoid of purpose and meaning. I’ve already said this, but allow me to make that quite clear.

I know where I am, I know the person that I am, allegedly, but again, there is no feeling or connection to that person. Thinking of people I have loved, there is only a faint sensation of knowing who they are and that I loved them. Thus, there is a feeling-sensation, but the actual feeling seems distant, though I cannot say I have consciously or willfully “detached” myself from the feeling; instead, the feeling seems to not be able to fully and completely appear in the first place.

Perhaps this is the so-called “veil” of God. I can imagine that this nothingness may be. There is only a faint sense of desolation here, but that is the most salient characteristic emotionally speaking.

My head hurts. The pain is there, but I’m not suffering from it. That can explain things, in a way.

I’ll end this now.