Fallen angel

 Sometimes life feels like a long hallway with no windows — just door after door, corner after corner, and you keep hoping that one of them will finally lead to the light. But every turn is the same. Same walls. Same silence. I look back and honestly don’t know how I made it. What kept me going. Why I didn’t just give up. And the craziest part? Now that things are supposed to be better... I still feel like I’m falling apart. I’ve been in relationships. I had a boyfriend. We were together, shared days and nights, plans and a bed. But I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t even alive inside. I felt like I was playing a part in someone else’s movie — like I was doing all the things people say you should do, but none of it meant anything. I’d wake up, go through the motions, and then at night just sit in silence, wondering why I felt so goddamn empty. Then there was a time I actually felt alive. I was on my own, but I could breathe. I laughed again. I felt light. I felt free. But there was no one to...

Sometimes it feels like life is just one nonstop wave of crap hitting you in the face. You get through one thing, barely catch your breath—and boom, here comes the next one. I honestly thought last year was the hardest one yet. Court stuff, police, legal cases piling up… it felt like I was constantly walking around with a weight on my chest. Like something bad could drop on me at any second. There wasn’t any peace. Just stress, guilt, and survival mode. And yeah, I made mistakes. Drugs, wild nights, stupid and reckless choices. I’m not proud of that part of my life. But I made it out. I stopped breaking the law. I cleaned up. I cut ties with the past. And for a second, I thought, finally —a fresh start. But here’s the thing no one really talks about: sometimes the hardest part isn’t getting out of the hole. It’s figuring out how to live after you’ve climbed out. You expect relief, peace, some kind of reward for surviving. But what you get instead… is silence. Confusion. And this hea...

  I'm 29. And I have no idea why I wake up anymore. Honestly? I’m not really living. I’m just… existing. Getting through the day. Breathing, because my body still does it automatically. From the age of 18, my life was wild. Parties. Escort work. Streets. Shady shit. People with no rules. Money came fast. So did adrenaline. I flirted with jail but somehow never ended up inside. I was always on edge — but at least I felt something back then. Some kind of thrill. Some sense of purpose, even if it was toxic and temporary. But now? Now it’s just silence. No noise. No rush. No direction. Just me… stuck somewhere between my past and whatever the hell the future is supposed to be. And here’s the real messed up part: I got out of that lifestyle. I tried to do "better." Tried to work. Tried to be “normal.” But everything just feels empty. I don't know what I want anymore. I don’t know who I am. I don’t even know what I’m good at. People keep saying the same shit: “Find yourself...