Sometimes I just wonder, what's the point?
What's the point of waking up in the morning? What's the point of walking, talking, eating, loving? What's the point of living, really?
The worst part is, I don't know the answer. I never will. Maybe there's no point at all.
There's today, and then there's tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow. But they're all just a different version of the same, tedious day.
I wake up at 6 am, I take a shower in my small silent flat and I walk to the coffee shop I work at. Nothing interesting ever happens.