....
I became addicted to overthinking...
Once, even coffee and chocolate became my addiction.
In those moments, my mind seemed empty...
Or perhaps it was filled with hollow thoughts.
I didn't dare to think at times...
Fearful of what I had become...
Or perhaps afraid of what I would become.
The echoes of my thoughts reverberated...
Engulfing me like darkness...
Swallowing me whole, like a stone sinking into still waters.
In those moments, I felt like I was drowning...
Embracing the sinking feeling, cradling it against my chest...
Like a mourning swan with a broken neck.
It wasn't my first encounter with escapism...
A distance from a mischievous self that steals my belongings...
Or a separation from a pure spirit that returns what was lost.
Like a fingerprint, it adorns the essence that once erupted within me.
.......
She closed the notebook and murmured,
"I think it's time to let go of this," gesturing towards the journal. "Hmm, or maybe I'll put it somewhere far away from me. I need to get used to speaking more than I do with writing. It's probably best if no one gets hold of it."
Lisan took the notebook that she had been writing in occasionally for a long time,
perhaps around four or five years. She began to wander around her room, searching for a place to put it.
For a moment, the room seemed narrow and unable to accommodate even a notebook in Lisan's eyes.
It was better, in her opinion, that no one read what she had experienced on her own.
Not out of fear, but to consider it a secret between her and herself, as there was nothing left for her to hide. Her friends already knew what she had been through.
As she opened her closet, she caught sight of a black box.
A smile formed on her face as she gently picked it up, cradling it in her hands.
She wiped off the dust, wondering if it was the dust of memories or the imprint of moments.
Smiling, she opened the box, sitting on the floor of her blue-carpeted room.
She began to inspect its contents, her smile growing wider with each item she discovered inside.
After examining the contents of the box, she carefully placed the notebook back inside, saying, "I don't know what you hold, but I'll return you to your place. I will forget your existence eventually."
Her words referred to the box as she signaled her intention to let go of its contents and move on.
She closed the wardrobe and made her way to the balcony of her room.
Taking a deep breath, she whispered, "Let's start anew."
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