"Life hasn't been the same since I got here.
The feeling of the first ounces of sunlight, the sound of rain hitting your window and the feeling of finally getting into your bed after a long day feels different.
Not like I ever left my bed if it wasn't for therapy or anything like that, I'm way to unmotivated and can't find a reason to get up in the mornings.
I'm tired, tired of all of this. When will it end?
It's like a sick cycle, a never ending cycle of torture.
On the topic of cycles, I've been having nightmares about what happened during the end of my regime. It's also been invading my mind, with all my protest it still manages to find its way in there.
But at the same time, my mind feels empty. Empty of the life I used to cling to.
What did I do to deserve all of this?"
Skåne puts down his diary, and closes his eyes. Letting his mind wander,
Back to Finland.
(While making this I realized that I'm started to do less brain rot shit 😟)
Skåne woke up, he looked at the time. 11:00. Later than usual, but more of a peaceful sleep that it was for an example yesterday.
NC had to check up on him in the middle of the night because he was so stressed out, he shivered at the thoughts of the previous events in his new life.
As he sat up it felt like his body was physically protesting against any move that isn't getting more comfortable in bed. Skåne hesitantly picked up his phone and fell back down into bed as he started to do whatever he does on his phone.
A few minutes later his phone fell down onto his face.
"Oh this motherfucker! You're going to be the topic of my therapy session!"
Skåne yelled and finally got out of bed, he was hungry and wanted food. He threw his phone onto the bed and went out of his prison cell of a room. Outside, he meet a familiar face.
The kingdom of Sweden, Sverige.
(Image I forget to post for a month and leave yall on a super long cliffhanger)
