I have finally stopped caring about anything and I always thought it would be more fulfilling and mellow, but it just feels empty and kind of strange. I thrive on superficial stuff now and avoid substantial human contact.
I try to fake concern, but the attempts are always failures. All that resides is the numb feeling of nothingness. It's like an abandoned battlefield after they've collected the bodies and all that remains are the flags of the conflicting parties; fluttering in the stench of violence and pain that doesn't exist anymore. My mother's birthday came and went, I bought her a gift with my sisters, but it doesn't feel the same, I wasn't excited or happy about it (usually I am), I went to Jordan in the feast (it was great), and then there was a fire in the building that I live in (yup, I was wearing my floaty pyjama shirt over cargo pants and sneakers with no socks, as we breathed in smoke and no one was hurt), but during the fire I wasn't scared, worried, but not scared (I called the fire department and they responded quickly) although I saw the reddish orange flames trying to break free from its cement cage into other floors (no one was hurt and the fire was due to a shisha or something in the second floor, it was contained).
I am quite most of the time and when I speak I babble and there's that throbbing headache that reoccurs a lot and my left eye tremors on its own. I am not sick of the numbness, but it does have an eerie presence.
All I keep imagining is a vast desert with me in the middle, screaming.
I hate talking. It's just so useless.
Today's most repeated sentence "You can send it via email"