There will always be someone trying to fix you.

People don’t like the idea of nothingness. It’s why they make cities and babies and gods; they need to fill the spaces in and around themselves to ward off the creeping sense that the only meaning in anything is that which they’ve put into it.

So when you flatly accept that you’re nothing, that you are an emptiness that exists only to be filled, it’s like admitting you’re everything that frightens them. You are failure, and hopelessness, and the void. Your embrace of your own insignificance is, to their ears, a grating dissonance; your life sings in the wrong key, and they need to tune you up.