July 31, 2023

 

Dear ghost,

For the past four months, there is a hollow in my stomach. It's unlike the butterfly but so much like the bottom of the well. The water have always been dried up but the wall looks more suffocating. I have been degraded.

"Write again."

"...learn."

"...you shouldn't."

"...are not good."

"...be more careful."

"...Figure out." And so on.

I feel degraded. Like I shouldn't be here. My fragile ego immediately collapse at the face of my stumble. I am incompetent that's what it meant for me. And I don't know how to fix it. I would rather I was a robot. It seems I am my biggest hurdle.


Yours even as I fear to be.



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