i a.m.

San Azan
San Azan
Nov 4 · 1 min read

if there is any story to tell i should have told you a hundred times already. to remember such i must write, i must tell, i must think. funny how i was considered as a writer before yet i can’t even write a single coherent sentence today. the point of trajectory is what i always miss. my words dance around the web i try to weave. an hour before the hour i consider me, to whom i have lost grip of.

the pain from my very heart i cannot even feel. i’ll tell you how it feels: it’s vast, obscured, dark, unveiled, and heavy. but there’s a good thing about it, it’s real or maybe not if my brain had decided to lure me.

blah blah blah. my thoughts are all over the place. hey, it no longer stings when you laugh about how it feels for you’ve never felt such and i ask the universe to rob you of such feeling. be kind.

:)