All I do has no purpose.
Bitter black coffee has no taste.
Music has no sound.
Articles have no meaning. Letters are just running along the screen.
The good weather outside is for them, it's a stupid picture for me.
Breathing is so painful now... As well as talking and moving... Because I don't know what for I am doing this.
No more online talks. No more minutes of happiness.
The scariest thing is that there's no more light to show me where to go next. And there will never be.