February 10, 2025

I cannot bear it. I do not like them. They weep in a corner, abandon their needs, wallow in self-worth, and rarely grow the courage to love themself. When I sit with myself, I want to cut my skin and fly out of it. When I do not drown in what I consume, I swallow myself whole. When I am not reading, when I do not freeze in front of the screen, when I am not in another world and when I turn the music off, I am nothing more. Therefore, in this concrete town, where I can see stars on earth, I live vicariously. Because there is no breeze rustling through trees and green grass where I could sleep to not fear nothingness. Without what I consume, I am nothing in the town and I can only forget to fear this nothing when I am alive through another. But this nothing is a mere truth to smile at in the countryside where I believe I belong. Among trees and flowers and in a meadow, I can sit with myself and swim in an absurd existence such as I. In the woods, I am a curious admirer of the world and a dumb idiot just so in love with the beauty of seasons. Still, even in this wretched town, I will never abandon myself. I might not love myself but I don't hate you either.