Sense

People have a "freezing point," where they live life—eating, sleeping, attending classes, scrolling through social media—yet inside, they’re frozen like ice.

"Are you upset?"
"No."
"Disappointed?"
"No."
"Want something?"
"No."
"Feeling bad?"
"No."
"Happy?"
"Not really."

They haven’t failed exams or faced harsh rejection. They aren’t homeless or starving. They’re just frozen, like a dry leaf waiting to crumble.

The question echoes, "What’s wrong with me?" They function normally, but nothing around them—the noise, the city, emotions—affects them. Maybe they’re the ones beyond reach.

We all have freezing points, drifting like icebergs. Sometimes we break, and if lucky, we melt, waiting for warmth. maybe for a lifetime.

By day a panda, by night an Otaku in flight,  Weaving code and anime dreams, beneath the moon’s soft light.