sometimes no one seems to need my life, not even myself. I live on a very fragile line, although everyone tells me it’s up to me and I’ll get over it
but my world burns, I don’t know how to overcome everything, because other people drive me to madness. another person’s illness forces you to look for healthy people, but to find them anywhere, here in a boarding house
it’s hard to see a sick person who was once part of your world, your neighbor, or a “colleague”. it’s hard to see the other person’s world fall apart and the blacks take over.
you feel like a traveler of this world, you are overwhelmed by strange lives even though you have always sworn to yourself that you will not live a strange life …. but a strange life lives in you.