Dear No-one
i am sitting in the cold and quiet kitchen...thinking about nothing and everything at the same time. i wanted to write to someone, but i had no one to write to. i wanted to talk to someone but i had no one to talk to. so i am writing to you, hoping that i can express everything that i have been keeping to myself.
the rain is slowly coming down and my mother is in the next room, getting dressed. i feel a certain kind of solace looking out into the darkened sky, watching the dead leaves fly by.
i am alone, but that is not news to me. sometimes i like being alone, and most times i do not. i do not know how i can be both happy and sad at the same time. it is not like i am living a rough life, things could be a lot worse than they are but they are not. sure i do not have a close relationship with my father, or that my mother left me when i was three.
every day on the news, there are more and more stories about young people, older people dying. not being able to live out their lives, ending so suddenly. and here i stand thinking of ways to be gone.