Yukihapax

We never truly forget. After years of mental health struggling I realized the first thing you lose is your ability to express yourself. I may be different, for sure, but it's the system that everyday just pushes my wrong triggers, hour after hour, with schedules, shouting voices, compromises, forced rhythms and shapes. I know I should just fly away, but GOD I'm not broken and I'm not damaged,and it's not my fault. It should be built differently, it should let everybody fit in. I struggle and I know I'm not the only one. So I am asking: why do we all keep accepting this? If I look back at this account I can see all the things I used to love and I dropped because of my struggles. I don't want everything to be ruined. Life hasn't been gentle with me but I won't let myself down and at least I'll try to treat myself in a better way. I'll keep myself up, fighting tooth and claws not to disappear in this ocean of nothingness.

My soul of water is definitely withering. Some people have died, and my heart has followed. I thought I could bear, I thought I could do well but I don't know anything anymore. I shot a lot of new picture: new ones from London from the last spring and some fresh things from my lonely summer. Waiting for the time to die around me just like all the rest, and still finding real beauty in colours, shapes and shades. And then my heart keeps being stolen with a very terrible timing, and I awkwardly find myself harbouring flames that come and go pretty much like summer storms. It's a flooding of memories.