Effy

Don’t care about the future. Not in a tragic way. Just… whatever. Days blur. Nights stretch. No plans. No big dreams. Just songs on shuffle and cigarettes that burn too slow. I’m not chasing anything. I’m not running either. Just here. No legacy. I just want something that feels real before it’s gone. Life’s a loop—half-drawn sketches, old songs from when the world felt different, mornings that feel like hangovers even when I haven’t been drinking. Everything pulls. I drift.