Why must I find everything in life so trivial now? I have become an apathetic existence that finds satisfaction through conservatism and radicals. I want to experience something other than a dull buzz resulting from an anomaly in society, which is not difficult to be exposed to.
I miss the shivers that swam across my limbs, strangled me, immobilized me from an eccentric, raw feeling of pain. I miss the pure elation that stalked and surrounded me like an electric current when he said, “I love you.” I miss having the ability to drive my hand down an empty, windy road of a piece of paper, with no direction or control, and have the tire marks create something whimsical and beautiful.
But as I sit here, discovering my lost potentials, and realizing that his absence has turned me into a stoic, I can’t even feel anger towards him. I can’t feel love towards him. He has left me with a blank page, and marks of erased cliches.