Did I lose the art of writing and my source of self-expression? It used to be my Narnia or the drowning tree that takes me to wonderland. I’ve been trying lately with no luck. Where do I start? Words lately feels redundant, I hate that I live in this broken record of nothing comes my way. Positivity is hard work, when your brain wakes and shuts on horrifying thoughts and grim. Religion helps, it helps a lot. But again, it’s hard work to read Quran or to speak to Allah (through duaa,.. relax people). It’s also hard work to get to the gym or walk for an hour. It’s hard to make plans with friends or set goals and see them through. It’s especially very hard to be unemployed for almost a year. Adulting and living a healthy non-toxic life feels like stepping on my wound every step of the way with a hard-pressed smile on my face. That theory of faking it till you make it is taking a hell lot of time to happen, but I’ll keep carrying on.