Updated: Aug 8, 2020
I cannot think, write, create, enjoy...
I am so bored of myself, my loops, my patterns, my inappetence that inside me right now I am full of nothingness, that nothingness that rises like a tide up to my throat, engulfing my whole being, leaving only my thinking head out so that the only thing to do is looking at myself, listen to all the disapproving characters in me, and think, think more.
The doom of nothingness is feeling that I won't be able to create, to work, to enjoy, to find my path. It is feeling I will be forever looking at this ceiling.
But I won't.