Sorry, but I don't feel anything... Not even when you try to reach me in your dreams, or when you insist on standing there, looking at me - I don't see it at all; I was once what you seem to hate: intense, dellusional, sorry for myself (suffering for a plot that I alone had created) until I got back to my old motto - I don't care, and don't expect anybody to do it for me. Today I woke up thinking of last year and I realised how productive it had been (specially compared to the previous one) just because I decided to suffocate my essence. After endless attempts, I finally managed to stop wanting. Hoping. Needing. Yelling. Losing. Accept. Adapt. Change. Grow up!, I told myself - and like magic, the ground under my feet started spinning, the air I breathe got scentless. There ain't got no room for weeping in real life - even for a woman.
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