My suffering isn’t as severe as before.
Still, some things hack at my core.
It splits my will, and I am no longer stuck.
But I find myself in an occasional rut.
Loneliness is my current mindset.
In hindsight, I always knew I’d be alone.
But I was hopeful enough to find meaning with someone.
I find a lot of meaning in expressing my feelings in poetry.
I find glimmers of hope, and support from my followers.
I am not depressed. No. I am just lost in the world.
I think that is valid. I think that, this isn’t mental illness. This is purity and honesty.
What is life, and why are we in cruise control?
I see humans, but I do not see humanity.
And that makes me destined to feel like some things do not matter.
