Diary 001
Pressure. So much pressure. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Cannot breathe them out. For a moment, I start to miss the lost self. The one who struggles with meaning. But they are gone. Tears in rain? No they are just liquid Meaning of existence? No they are just fantasy of soul May you have a happy life I just want to go back from the material oblivion Yet there is no turning back