Being a disgrace. Oh, how much it weighed on my shoulders for so long, every day. With every time I disappointed myself, parts of my soul got split off; only small parts, mere fragments. But I believe there to be some kind of saying, not that I would remember it. Whatever, if you walk a small amount of the way every day, you will arrive eventually.

I failed once again. Despair weighed heavy on my shoulders, making me tire quickly after waking in the morning. My insides, specifically my stomach, mangelnd itself, to my absolute discomfort. Deep down, I had this faint desire of throwing up, as if it could help me to get rid of that feeling. Moving did not hurt, but I somehow felt too weak to do it. Every day, there was no greater hardship for me that to ignore myself and go on. Because society will not tolerate failure, just as I will never.

This one time, I remember it clearly, I felt so light and weightless in my dream. This impression stayed with me for another few seconds after waking, just before the heavy atmosphere sank into me once again. So, it became my goal to achieve this state of mind permanently.

At some point, luckily, my soul was used up entirely. Now, I am neither heavy, nor light. I just am.

I am glad the pain is gone, forever.

So, let's celebrate my hollow heart.