Faut pas

The city buzzes somewhere in the distance, and in my head, the noise is no quieter. Thoughts bounce around like a ball on hot asphalt, and each bounce brings a new sting. Everything around me seems familiar, but without warmth: faces, glances, promises. Even my friends have become like old contacts in my phone - they're there, but I don't want to call them.

Under the bass and the dull thuds of words, a feeling of fatigue grows - adult, viscous, without hysterics. When you realize that disappointment is not an accident, but a backdrop. And yet you keep going, just quieter, with notifications turned off and pride turned on. Because even in this gray whirlwind, there is strength in being yourself, even without likes.