From Kaew
Sometimes I think I should just give up—like Moonbin, from mysterious dark black road.
I lost on a road soaked in shadows, where even the stars forget to shine. I walk that path too, silent and unseen, wondering where I went wrong. I try to fix myself, to breathe through the ache, but every time I try to live, someone tells me I shouldn’t. They say I should disappear, vanish, die. And I start to believe them.
I feel like a ghost in my own story. My words used to mean something. My fanfiction was my escape, my heartbeat. But now, it feels like screaming into a void. No one listens. No one cares. I pour my soul into every chapter, and all I get is silence. Or worse—blame. Mockery. Loneliness.
I’m tired of pretending I’m okay. Tired of hoping someone will read between the lines and see the pain I hide. I feel like I’m fading, like the ink in my stories is drying up, like I’m dissolving into thin air. I used to dream of being seen, of being loved for the worlds I created. But now, I just want to sleep and never wake up.
I give up. I give up on writing. I give up on being strong. I give up on waiting for someone to say, “I see you.” Because maybe I was never meant to be seen to anyone.
