Created in A5, using ball point pen.

Looking back, I don't know who I am? how many lives did I live? How many deaths of my own self did I witness with my eyes open and a smile on my lips. Did someone grieve for me? Did the expectations ever come true? Did I ever try to escape, curse the hell out of it, cry my heart out, be selfish enough to be me, love me more?

In a haunting truth I always end the answer with NO only for myself, deafened and silenced by the cries of the tragedy evolving itself every time wrapped in the same wrapper.

But I still embraced it like my own shadow, always with me only in my light and all alone again.