Existing in this world is a heavy burden that settles upon my shoulders each morning and finds no rest at night. To live means bearing an endless weight— breaths drawn with difficulty, and days heavier than sleepless nights. I feel this burden upon my shoulders, right where the bones can no longer bear the strain of bending. With every step I take, I feel the world’s weight more intensely, as if the earth itself were clinging to me. Sometimes I think that if I could lay this burden down— even for a brief moment— perhaps my shoulders would feel a little lighter. But the burden of existence is never set aside; it is always with me, always present, like a shadow that lingers even in the dark. And so I keep walking, carrying this heaviness that sinks ever deeper into my skin, my bones, and my soul. I do not know how long I can endure, yet here I stand— beneath the crushing weight of being.
