Tired… Tired to fight.. Tired to start again and again…

Tired to do the tedious business of everyday.. Tired to walk upright….

Too tired…

And yet a smile from her, that still unknown her, would somehow make the tiresome part just go away..

There is a thing called stamina. To replenish it needs time.. Six years of past love, five years of troubles, three years of bancruptcy are taking their toll. A big toll. Out of stamina, out of mood, out of everything… No more resources… Empty. Emptier than the pocket of a bankrupt jew…

Not event the resources needed to go on autopilot. Cause there is not such a thing… Uti, fata trahunt… would have said a roman… At least, in those time, you could pick a sword and a shield and go wherever there was a fight. Today they will find you in every hellhole you would try to go..

Days like this… becoming weeks… then months… and turning into years… long years…who can resist to such long years of despair, of burden, of desperate resistance… and all to the illusion that you can survive in the middle of a disaster…


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