Empty Chest

I don't know anymore.
What should I do to fill the empty chest?
Hugging my pillow? Praying the whole night? Talking a walk, feeling f**king lonely and miserable?
Well, I guess this is life.
In exchange for relatively a genius learning brain, I have little talent for real life.
F**king miserable, unhealthy body, dirtied minds, impure heart.
A fool. A maniac. A loser. An unbeliever.
A writer who can't put it into spoken words.
That's what I thought of myself, indulging in self-pity, unable to blame anyone.
But if I were to continue thinking like that, I'll really become one.
This is my dilemma. Stuck, frustrated, emptied, broken, weathered.
Just like a big shit. F**king miserable. F**king shit. F**king everything.
It's just a big, f**king world out there, and it feels like I'm the only one with these feelings, despite of everything I saw, heard and believe.
F**king, easily broken technologies don't help me feel better at all.
F**king pictures of me remind me of my ugliness.
F**king miserable. Shit. Shit. Piss it.
Piss on everything I hate.
I hate. I hate. I HATE!!!!!!!!!
Well, Love alone can save me, but does Love exists?
Just like the Lord Allah.
Yes, exists He is, but I can't feel it sometimes.
At the times I need to feel Him the most.
Just like Love.
Locking my heart, and not promising.
These feeling sucks.
F**k!F**k! F**K!!!!!