Thoughts must be written

on their original tongue of being though.

This thing on me, the way i've been feeling, the way i've been being these days, just thinking about me, myself and i, not caring about anything or anyone else is so damn not me that i simply don't understand how i'm becoming this thing i'm not. I miss my old person, quite, peacefully, full of attention and care to give to the ones i care about, to the ones i like, to the ones who need to talk. I miss that quite a simple person that used to live inside of me.