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unknowingly, there's something inside of me that always wanted to get out my fingers bleed clawing the floor but the floor is also a wall
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this is not for you
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The words in this collection won't be for anyone. I didn't dedicate these words for anyone. I've written these disjointed narratives, homicidal monologues and poetically-destructive soliloquys as a way of letting out the noise in my head, to let out uncertain emotions, to express absurd and surreal dreams, and importantly, to vent out my struggles with my mental illnesses in the form of experimental writing as a psychotherapeutic function in this portfolio. These words does not express tangible subjects and concrete ideas. They are personal.
Homesick // 2017 (c) SoutaBrendan [noface] // all rights reserved
