Today, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being disconnected from myself, like I was watching life from a distance, unable to fully step into it. I caught myself depersonalizing, my sense of self slipping away, as if I were fading into the background. It’s hard to describe, but the feeling was there, heavy and persistent, like a constant pull that kept me from truly engaging with everything around me.


    I took a moment to look up at the sky and watched the birds as they flew, their shapes shifting and transmuting as they glided with the wind. It was almost like they were morphing, becoming something else with every beat of their wings. There was something calming about it, like watching a dance that had no need for explanation. The way their forms changed made me think of how I, too, feel like I’m constantly shifting, trying to fit into spaces that sometimes don’t seem to have room for me.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    But then, there’s that nagging feeling of loneliness. It’s not just being alone physically, but that deeper sense of isolation, the kind where you feel like no one really understands the way you think or communicate. I feel different in ways that aren’t always easy to explain, and sometimes, I’m ashamed of how I express myself, like I’m not getting it right, like my way of communicating is too much or too little. I wish I could speak in a way that felt more natural, but instead, I often stumble over my words or hold back altogether.


    I wish there were someone who could see through all of that—someone who could just understand, without needing explanations. But for now, it’s just me, observing the world around me, feeling a bit like an outsider.