Kalya

Doing with them everything you've done to me. I feel horrible sometimes, but at least no one can hurt me like you once did.

Sometimes I think about all the bad things you've ever said to me and I can't understand why I can't hate you.

When are we gonna talk about the loneliness and the melancholy about being an only child, growing up all alone?

The silence... The absence of sound is maddening, the void is present as if it were everything that ever existed. The streets, once so crowded and busy, are abandoned as if even the Sun itself had forgotten to cast its rays of light upon them. it's still day but darkness seems to have taken possession of the city that has long been forgotten. I walk these desolate streets alone as I always have, even before life fades, I see empty buildings and abandoned cars waiting to be used, waiting to be useful again. Feelings of despair and anguish hit me like a moving train, I feel my knees give out under the weight of my body, suddenly I'm curled up on the floor hugging my legs. I have just realized that neither the city nor the buildings nor the cars have been forgotten because I remember them and see them, but I am the only one who is not seen or remembered. I was long forgotten. I start to doubt my own existence, if I really am who I am and if I really am part of the world, because if no one remembers me how would I exist? I do not exist.

Don't try to be the reader of something unreadable