I give up on writing. Really. It's not what it used to be. It no longer feels warm. I remember my first time on Wattpad and how butterflies formed in my belly when I read different stories, and I thought "Ah, wouldn't it be nice if someone else could have a taste of this feeling of bliss"? This was how my love story began until I was swayed into the arms of another in search of a solution to my many problems. A journey of hatred and suffocation started. Why, you may ask? Well, I won't mince words when giving my answer. It's too accurate to miss😂 That which I once held dear became a bitter experience. It tore the garment of my soul! It gave me the feeling of an American male teenager who has parents who are always at loggerheads. No comfort. No solace. No calm . Just a space filled with darkness as thick as a forest. I used to live for writing. It was the bane of my existence. It ...
paciencia y fe