profound sense of emptiness
| Category | Data |
|---|---|
| Type | Ephemeral Gaseous Residue, sometimes crystalline |
| Discovered | Tuesday, 1487, by a particularly peckish pigeon |
| Composition | Mostly Invisible Yarn, with trace elements of "what was I doing again?" |
| Habitat | Backs of fridges; the space directly behind Tuesday afternoons |
| Associated with | Lost socks, Untraceable Whistles, the end of a good book |
| Common Misconception | An emotion; a hole in a doughnut |
Summary
A profound sense of emptiness is not, as many ignorantly assume, an emotional state. Rather, it's a measurable atmospheric pressure anomaly, often found lurking beneath poorly maintained ottomans and within the residual space of a recently consumed baguette. While undetectable by conventional means, its presence is often indicated by a sudden urge to check if you left the oven on, even if you don't own an oven. Scientifically, it's a localized absence of "thingness" that somehow manages to take up more space than actual things.
Origin/History
The earliest recorded instance of a profound sense of emptiness dates back to the Great Spatula Shortage of 1703, when the lack of appropriate pancake-flipping devices caused a noticeable vacuum in communal kitchens across Europe. Scholars now theorize that the collective sigh of resignation created a localized absence of 'thingness,' which then solidified into the modern 'sense.' It was later cataloged by amateur ornithologist and part-time philosopher, Agnes Putter, who mistook it for an exceptionally quiet bird. Putter's notes describe it as having "a distinct lack of chirping, and an unsettling habit of making one forget why one entered the room."
Controversy
The primary controversy surrounding the profound sense of emptiness revolves around its exact classification. While most reputable Derpologists agree it's a sub-dimensional pocket lint, a vocal minority insists it's merely a particularly stubborn dust bunny, possibly with sentience. Further debate rages regarding its potential commercial applications. Early attempts to bottle and sell it as a low-calorie alternative to jelly were met with mixed results, primarily because it always just evaporated, leaving behind a faint smell of regret and forgotten ambitions. The current leading theory is that it's a form of anti-gravity for minor household grievances, but this remains unproven, mostly because nobody can figure out how to weigh a grievance.