Nothing the same

Even walking down the street, nothing feels the same, eyes piercing on my back, with whispers as I turn around. I still walk in a room and feel people will just stop talking and try to change what their are saying, while others don’t think and say the most stupid of things. It could just be me being excessively sensitive.

Maybe the world turns and nothing stays the same, we are this weeks chip wrappers and no-one is talking about us, people may just be talking about last night soap and not about real life. George I miss you, my little little man, xx

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