"What is your passion?"Giuero from Jerusalem asked.
Could he read the despair on my face?
Right now my passions are few. I struggle to wake up in the morning. Knowing that futility awaits.
I used to find things interesting.
I used to see glory in the sunshine.
I used to count the stars.
My imagination fails me these days.
I am unable to find comfort in living.
"My passion ... is staying alive."
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