I haven’t been sleeping well lately.
I go to bed late.
I write late.
I think too much.
I look at the numbers.
They are small.
They make more noise in my head than they should.
Sometimes I feel like I’m playing in an empty room.
No boos.
No applause.
Just me, and what I write.
I keep going anyway.
Because I don’t know how to do anything else.
I write when it burns.
I write when it spills over.
I write when I have nothing left to lose.
Some days I wonder if anyone will read this.
Other days, I tell myself that’s not the right question.
Maybe this site is just a place where I leave what I am.
No filter.
No costume.
No promise.
Today, I expect nothing.
I leave a trace.
And that’s enough.
