Feels like I’ve been living the same year all over again. Same plot, different characters. Same tragedy, different receiver. Same feelings, different intensity. Same pain, different outcomes.
And while the same story is repeating itself, the previous one is still playing. Like a twisted episode of Black Mirror. The tragedy mirrors itself. We look in the mirror and there are two different people there, living the same problems separately but identically, waiting to see what happens to one another. Watching one tragedy unfold through their eyes while living a tragedy through their own sense of self.
Feels like it’ll never end but if it ends, how will it end? To whom? Both? None? Good? Bad? Good and bad? Good and good? Bad and bad? OR bad and worse? How, when, where and to whom?



2 am confession

When who I am makes it hurt to breathe

I’m not scared

I’m scarred

When who I see on the mirror makes it hard to live

I’m not hurt

I’m empty

When no one knows

I’m not me

I’m silence

When no one asks

I’m not disappointed

I’ve disappeared

When no one sees

I’m not angry

I’m tired

When no one cares

I’m not heartbroken

I’m quiet

When they are disappointed in me

I’m not sad

I know

I’m disappointed in me too

When they hurt me

I’m not hurt

I’m alone

When I live

I’m not alive

I’m empty space

I’m in agony

When I’m me

I’m not

I’m in hell




Writing is one of the few things I think I’m good at that genuinely makes my soul happy, almost like it is my purpose in life.