In my head? Constant repetition of "Creep" and somehow my heart is heavy, though it has no reasons for it. If before I felt filled, brimming over with content or joy or sadness, now I feel like emptiness and heaviness of that emptiness. It felt today as though I had no voice and each time I spoke, I was not heard. And then there's this book that will not leave my brains alone. It had dug into them like a parasite and it gnaws on me. Why did they lose that precious piece of happiness when they already had it? I mean, isn't the whole point of our lives to find happiness? I don't know. Sometimes I wish my life had an author, then every 'plot twist' would make more sense. What I wouldn't give for an assurance of a happy ending.

@настроение: I am not seen. I am not heard. Sometimes I wonder if I still exist.