What are we doing? Surviving, I guess. Nothing we can do prepared us for this. These bombings are sick, and we can’t do anything to curb this shit.
We can’t even cry, there is no point. What good would crying do? What difference would it make? All I know is I and my friends are still there, and we are OK, after the circumstances. We are still here, and it kind of hurts. But we won’t go away, ever.
No, that is definitely not me.
Länge sedan. Saknar ditt skrivande. Kommer du att bli aktiv igen så jag borde ta mig samman och förnya prenumerationen? Vänligen, Paul