Quiet Resignation

In the quiet stillness of the room, a solitary figure stands, staring out into the dark cityscape. The silence is heavy, almost suffocating, as their thoughts drift-each one colder than the last. The weight of past choices hangs in the air like a constant, unshakable presence. There's no anger left, no tears, just an overwhelming numbness. Time has blurred the edges of what once mattered. There are no answers anymore, only the endless march forward into emptiness.

As they speak to themselves, their voice is detached, methodical, as though reciting a mantra to stave off the inevitable realization that they no longer care. They tell themselves they've moved on, but even the smallest crack in their words betrays a deep, unspoken weariness. The city outside continues to hum, indifferent to the brokenness inside.

In this moment, there is no hope, no resolution-only the quiet resignation of someone who has long since stopped expecting anything to change.

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