My inner whisper, come to me. My inner whisper, come and talk to me. I was feeling lost and scared. My core was giving me S.O.S. signals. Not once or twice, but for so many times. I was ignoring those signals. I didn't know whom I had to listen to: the talking world around me or myself. So many books, so many versions and recipes of everything, so many information and loud voices, advices and opinions. But nothing, nothing about who I am. Just some grains of knowledge, that's so old, like the Universe, with no beginning and no end, knowledge, that sounds like an echo. It reminded me about my ability to ask myself everything, I need to know. Well, I was surrounded by people and feeling absolutely empty and alone, deep inside. My inner being and the reality around me didn't match each other. It was extremely uncomfortable to feel and suppress it. So I was crying, feeling like an UFO object here, like I've been a weird stranger, trying to look and act like others. That was unbearable, like breaking myself, - the worst thing ever. And in the moment of culminating I screamed to the Universe, to reflection in the mirror, asking: "Who am I? Show me, please, who am I? I need to know. What am I doing here? Why did I come? And the process of getting answers has begun.
My inner whisper, come to me. My inner whisper, come and talk to me. My inner whisper, come and talk to me.
colored pencils, acrylic, pen, liners