I feel like a ghost. Like I'm watching the world from above. People living their every day life, checking the time and then running to catch the last train while my time stands still.

I follow them with my numb eyes but i dont participate. Caught in an invisible cage of thoughts, worries and hours and hours of overthinking.

Time is a valuable asset they say. Like golden sand that inexorably flips through the fingers no matter how hard you try to keep it together; and yet, sometimes, it passes by unbearably slow.

A torture dressed in golden clothes for those who can see through it.