Hiatus.
I am not myself anymore. An empty shell without soul. Broken spirit without any echoes. Keeps chasing shadows. Living in this uncertainty is slowly killing me. It never been love, it’d loneliness, as usual.
The more I want to write, I froze. The more I hate sleep, sleepier I become. And waking up feels like a burden. Am I normal?
Where is the old me?
