I don't know why I even bother. I don't even know why I continue doing what I'm doing. Nothing I do matters anyway. Every time I say that 'I'm fine' doesn't mean anything, to me they're just words given to me on a script. I'm may laugh and cry but in the end I feel nothing at my core. As if everyone was born with something I don't have and it hurts. Something's missing and I don't think I'll ever get it back. I'm just... I'm just...so...tired. And I just want to sleep because that's my only sanctuary in life of monotone.
Sorry I just wanted to get that out of my system.
YOU ARE READING
Aster's art book
Разноеthis is basically a book of my sketches I don't think I'm too good but I thought I should share it
