Dying, it's been my constant emotion for as long as I can remember.
Life, from the very beginning, I knew it wasn't for me. I had this distinct feeling that I am different; I can't adjust to what everyone thinks is ordinary.
I think too hard, even worry about the kids at the roadside and wonder if they are eating.
Why would their parents even give birth when they themselves can't afford a home?
People just watch them eat from dumpsters and go about their lives as if they can't see a starving child. What did that little kid do? Did they ask for such a life?
Sometimes, I think people have become so self-obsessed that they don't even see the person next to them, even if it is their wives, mothers, or children.
I question at the things, a lot of them.
Why is kindness a big setback in the current world? It is considered vulnerable and naive.
And then I question the world itself— why is kindness treated like weakness, and why do gentle hearts bleed while cruel ones thrive?
And if I talk like this, I can go on forever...but it seems like I don't have that much time.
Right now, I am sitting on a bench in a park. Just like every day, I came here to sit and watch the sunset and leave afterwards. But I don't think I will be going back.
It's not like somebody is waiting for me at home.
For a few days, I have been feeling this heavy pain in my chest and today, it seems like the pain caught up with me.
I stare at the sunset and before me, people were going on about their lives, just like they always do.
Nobody paid attention to the man dying right before them.
If there is a god out there, please, don't let me be born again...
It was the only thought that crossed my mind while I felt my life slipping away, and I could feel myself falling into the darkness.