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I miss writing. These past months I’ve been staring at empty windows of notepads, typing words without meaning, phrases without depth and paragraphs full of gibberish. And then I hit Ctrl + A + Delete, more than once, to hide the fact that this is all I have become. Meaningless, shallow, garbage.
All day in the office I do nothing. All day at home I do nothing. Between sleeping, commuting and all the hours of nothing that I do, I wonder where I’m going.
Am I lost? Or is there simply nowhere to go?
I wish God had given me a better map.
The one I have doesn’t say where “here” is.
