10th July 2020
2 months and 18 days.
Each day comes and goes.
Waking alone is horrid.
Breakfast alone is lonely.
Cooking for myself seems pointless.
Going to bed, I dread.
All that I do in-between seems futile. What is the purpose of my life?
There doesn't seem to be one.
Music used under license from Freeplay Music, LLC, 1650 Broadway, Ste. 1108, New York, NY 10019 USA - freeplaymusic.com