My heart is racing at the thought of a new beginning. And yet, it’s tiresome to try again. One must, though. The alternative is not an option, not yet, not while the pain is bearable. One hopes for a silence that precedes an Eureka moment, yet the moment never comes. There’s no enlightenment, just the…

I write because I’m tired of the pain my thoughts carry so I try to put it all on paper, hoping that the lead weight might get dissipated, diluted in the ink from my pen. I write because the hurt, the mortal hurt of a thousand billion souls that came before me, who all felt…