I can hardly feel anything. I hardly feel anything at all. What is wrong with me? How many times did i die without noticing? Tell me what i was like before i existed. I can't quite remember. And the things i do remember, well, there's something disturbing about recalling a warm memory and feeling utterly cold.
I watch myself fall apart with a child-like curiosity, like holding a magnifying glass over ants, watching myself burn. I study my pain like one studies german, with mediocre interest and lukewarm motivation. I am not even my own most interesting subject.
Most of the time, most days, i feel nothing.
I don't feel anything. It is so boring. I wake up and i think, again, really? I have to do this again? And what i really don't understand is how come everyone else isn't screaming with, with boredom, too.
None of us belong here, and we know it.
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Stories i will never write
Short StorySome stories that I've never finished or never felt like anything else had to be added. I didn't want them to rot in my drafts so here they are for you. These shorts could be in any perspective: male, female, maybe even animals. They may be in eithe...
