What should I write?

There is a lot I have inside me that have no words to. Pulling and tugging that come to nothing. I want to shout all about nothing. Like a deflated air bag inside of me, leaving only its skin, wrinkled like my face is getting. All you can sense in words are anger and anguish at face value.

I still cannot really answer that question: what will make me happy.

The answer is still nil.