This one is unrelated to the events that happened to me about which you can read in the poem titled "Nothing". Here, I write about not succeeding according to my expectations, and having a bit of an existential dread. (I'm alright, don't worry)
i want to scream but don't know how the fire within is nowhere to be found mist covers dust covers clovers what even is there to do? ...resign and fall. down shallow creeks through the canyons of an uncertain soul by drought struck through and through from the screams just whispers sound is there an exit from it all? ...rise or stall. i would have kept my pace but my feet won't follow through gravel roads only dust and ash over the air sprawls. i've outgrown what i don't understand twisted in a web of crates and barrels they're hollow. and hollow is the arctic soul which eternally falls. 2026-06-24