Memories flow through my pen tip, nowhere to place my unease

Everything here feels unfamiliar to me. I feel lost in this land—it’s nothing like my hometown, the place I know so well.

The people here make me nervous. There’s no one I can truly communicate with or trust. Everyone seems to wear masks 🎭

I want to hold your hand, but you’re not by my side,

So I can only write these words, expressing my longing and love

Everything seems somewhat illusory, life filled with uncertainty.

I think I might be sick—this sickness is lovesickness, is alienation.

Whenever I feel lonely, I always wonder: why should I conform? I just want to miss the people and things I love alone, to yearn for the life I desire alone.

Perhaps, from the beginning, I was wrong.

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