Midnight. My computer and I. Alone again. No more loneliness, only sorrow. And void. No more words. No more things to tell the world. Sad soul and empty mind. Why does it seem easier to write all this in english ? Maybe because it has no sense… Not in french ? Yes. Why ? Stop asking me questions. My soul, I am glad to meet you again. It has been a long time. Stupid. Here is home. MY home. This is my therapy. It consists on admitting the truth : I am no longer the person I used to be ; I do not write. But of course I do, right ? That is what I am doing every single school day : writing and writing… what they want me to write. But what about me ? And is it only THEIR fault ? All I know is that I need this : I need to empty myself from all this void in me. And I am going to do it here. Every time I need to express anything (logical or not, boring or stupid) in any language I want (and of course, any language I know).Let this be my therapy. No one will know it… except YOU. You, who doesn’t know me and YOU who didn’t know mi* before. Yes, I have to empty myself from this void in me to let life fill my soul.
* It is not a mis/take
