life is killing me
everyones story seems to be already told
the past
felt
lived
time moves on
skippes the now
without stopping
future is a foreigner
not to be predicted
scary maybe
yet exciting
not existent for some
too long for others
in the middle of all this
weirdness fills me
lost
a freefall
into something that has no
consistence
no texture
empty
yet full
light
yet heavy
homesick for a place that does not exist
tears me up
life is killing me
