Literature
WITH YOU
The sunshine bathed my face just like other days, just like many other occasions, but this time... it was different.
I struggled to bring myself back to reality, that very reality I wanted to escape from, it was so strange to wake up not being myself, to watch my body as if it was a mere illusion, seeing the world through a silhouette that, awkwardly, was my own.
I sighed.
I was so tired of living and at the same time not doing it at all, I was sick of wishing I could feel and not being able to do it, I was tired of everything, but still I managed to get myself back up with a force that wasn't mine, with an enthusiasm not belonging to me.
And Christmas isn't that far anymore. 