No one knows, really no one knows—how many paths I have walked alone, without any need. Other-minded, indifferent; as if the gravity of this world is pulling only my feet, not my soul. I do not feel any of the busy sidewalks, alleys, how much noise passes by me. My inner world is noisier than the sounds outside, or maybe completely silent.
Sometimes in this daze, a familiar face suddenly stands in front of me. I am startled. Maybe a little too startled, because I was not here at the time. When he asks, 'Where are you going?'—this simple question gives me a jolt in the chest. I cannot find the answer. With a dry smile, I somehow say, 'Here, right in front.'
He may shake his head and leave. And I stand right there. I look around me anew. I ask myself—why am I here? Which road did I take? How long have I been walking? I can't find any answers. It seems like someone has brought me to this strange place.
My time has become very chaotic. Days, dates, months—everything is somehow messed up. Morning begins, but I don't know when it ends. Night falls, but that darkness is no different from the darkness inside me. I don't understand where my life is going. People think about the future, make plans... and me? I don't know what my tomorrow morning will be like. This uncertainty, this horizonless journey—it's a long, silent brutality.
I don't like this pain anymore. Going around in the same circle every day. This feeling that I'm completely empty inside, like an empty hole—who knows how terrible this feeling is better than me? People see my outer shell, they see my smile; but no one sees this inner groan, this emptiness. This emptiness is the closest to me, the only world I know.
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