why

"Why does paper always feel so dry? Why can't it be soft, like a pillow or like a hug from someone you can trust? Paper - it's as dry, as brittle as your cheeks might sometimes be. Or are they wet? Wet like the rain that slowly trickles down the window pane. But paper can get wet, but even then it never loses its own texture. It doesn't become soft and comfortable like a pillow. It retains its identity, its edges. It can cut, tell a story, paint a picture, record a stain - be a love letter full of beautiful words or just a boring essay. That's how paper is, and somehow, that's how I am. Dry, wet, able to cut , but also able to tell stories.

I could never really like the taste of water. It was just so neutral, so undefined. But no one is really neutral, right? Everyone has their own likes and dislikes, their own identity. Then came the taste of the cigarette that spread through my mouth - the harsh taste of tobacco. I inhaled it slowly, watching the smoke leave my mouth and dissipate into the darkness. My hands were red, from the cold weather, but also from something else. The cold penetrated not only my hands, but also my heart. It felt like it was frozen.