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