He is lying on the cold ground. Cold as his feelings and the environment. He is done with the world and his life. Bleakness surrounds his mind. Shadows have taken possession of him and captured his dreams, put them in a cage and he lost the key to open it. He lost it because he forgets to live, lost the odor of rain, lost the feeling from the sun which was tickling his skin.
He stands up, slowly and carefully , he feels how the world pressed him down. Pressure which has it origins roots in disappointment. Disappointment fueled by bad experiences, he will never forget. He goes to the window to take a look outside. Sun, blue sky, but the world seems so foreign and different as if he had lost his eyesight.
He feels like a light from a small candle, which is running away from the wind who wants to capture and wipe it out. He was unprotected, helpless. A game that the wind plays, again and again. He, the small light will never have a chance to stand still, to calm down, he is dragged around by the wind. He knows that someday the wind will come and blow him out. And then nobody will remember the existence of him, he will be gone.
Cold.
(first chapter of my character which shows the melancholic site of him )
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