I once wrote a piece about how writing is therapeutic to me.

But it's funny how my finger feels numb at the moment my soul needs therapy the most.

Some words, you just can't spit out. Some feelings, you can't type.

All you can do is bottling it up. Go on with they day as if nothing happened. Write another content, acquire another user, find another traction channel--my daily job as community manager.

The tasks remain the same. But today, the background songs are different. There are more emo songs, followed by folk and jazz. Not the usual pop, EDM, or energizing R&B.

The foods are different. I didn't get up early to go to my favorite chicken porridge stall, nor I bought grilled chicken from my favorite Padang restaurant.

I just drank coffee, and more coffee, although I knew the acidity would hurt my stomach.

I kept telling myself I'm not sad and I'm not angry. But deep down there's another emotion, slowly killing me. It feels unreal. It makes me cry once every 3 hours. "But I'm not sad," I told myself over and over again.

It doesn't even hurt like it hurt when I failed a relationship. It doesn't even scare me like losing a job scared me. I don't know what it is.

I still have my energy, to type, to walk to the nearest ATM, to sing along with the Spotify playlist. But something is different. Something feels different.

My vision is blurred but I don't want to wear my glasses. The glasses make me feel ugly. The glasses do not help at all.

I take a look the mirror and think "I'm beautiful", with my black straight hair and soft, post-menstruation skin. But my soul is rotten, I told myself. My soul is rotten.

....