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Haven't write things here for such a long time.
I wonder why the older I grow, the less I can write, does it means I am more into the world? Or am I think and feel less about everything i see?
I am tired.
Seems that I've lost something behind when I was rushing to something.
I've got a new job, selling chocolate.
All my brain is all about the anxiety in living, money, money and... money.
I was used to be alone, not lonely.
But now I am afraid to be lonely, and that I refuse to give myself time to be alone.
I am not interested in seeing how much I have changed, instead, I want to know what is the reason for me to be so busy, busy enough to forget the reason of working.

Can anyone tell me, what is the thing that I am chasing.

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