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Well, inspiration’s gone for good. The noise outside my window is annoying. The sunlight is hitting the papers upon my table. I’m not fond of the heat. My bed is calling me, but I shouldn’t take a nap. No, I shouldn’t. I’ve got a lot to study. But I don’t care about anything of this. It’s too irrelevant. But I have to do it. I hate this modal. Everybody is going insane. I am going insane. The earth is still round. The sun is going to shine tomorrow. The sea is going to be blue for a while. I don’t feel the wind. Not much to write, I’m tired. If I close my eyes I see your freckles. I miss you so bad that it hurts. It does hurt. But I have to get used to it, I guess. Never mind. My breathing is slow and soft. My heartbeats are a little bit nervous. I’m not going to give in. I made a promise. You’ve been gone for so long. This emptiness is unbearable. Fuck.