"...irrevocably, utterly, undisputedly broken. Hearts so often disintegrate and forms whole again in time. But it loses something each time. So I am each time a different person. I am not me..."
There is something that is different in these past days. I find it harder to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. I can't even bring myself to sit through completing writing a chapter nor finishing a sketch. Inhale. Exhale. Have I stopped working somehow? Like a broken clockwork contraption. Am I missing a piece of me? Inhale. Exhale. I'm looking ahead, staring at the walls in front. And I see only emptiness. What does all of this mean? I wish there is a booth somewhere that I can go to and just ask for answers. A place where they sell meaning on top of little wishes and bright sunshine in mason jars.
"Run away." I hear it at the back of my head all the time. A tiny whisper. A soft prayer. And I am on the verge to heed...