wb

I am on a writer's block, sadly. (to me of course, I read my stuff only.)

I've been trying to think less and less, compressing all and never turning back. 

It turned out as a disaster as expected. I have a twisted understanding of valuing myself, changing many shapes but always twisted than ever. 

And there's this feeling building inside me that tells me it's never going to get better, only worse and worse.

Like when I was going to get a satisfactory feeling for my whole life? Never? 

When will I accept that I'm just an ordinary person and not a special one? Not meant to be anything other than that, even if tried my hardest? 

Is this because I'm feeling something unfinished inside me, something that makes me feel incapable? 

Or I was already on full and I reject understanding it? 

These questions and, feelings, of course, has been building for my whole life. And I can't escape from it. Can't escape from questioning the meaning of all of this. 

Does it worth, really? 

What's the difference after all when you hate the thing that you go through and you have a choice of not to do it anymore? 

Would that make me or you a coward? Or just wise? 

Cause you and I, were we born to die?