My house...

I sometimes feel like this house is dead and the ones that live in it are just shadows of human beings who walk around like zombies and take that deadness outside with them wherever they go. And there we go, walking around and around, not talking to each other, each inside their own bubble of bitterness and frustration, unable to reach out inside each other's space and look into our eyes.

I sometimes feel like I'm dying in this house; like I only get to watch Life passing by my window... watch it burst into colors and dance and sparkling butterflies taking sunbaths... but never allowed to join in the fun.

I have been feeling for a while now that this house is not my home anymore... It doesn't feel like that anymore...

I sometimes feel like I'm fading away, vanishing... becoming a ghost, trapped inside here for eternity, like The Others. Never allowed to leave, never allowed to smile or love or kiss or scream or cry or get mad or talk or dance or make love and let myself go... never allowed, never allowed, never allowed not even to breathe...

...not even to live...