A man sits slumped in the corner of a train, his head bowed and his hand pressed to his temple, the weight of the world seemingly resting on his shoulders. The muted light from the window frames his solitude, contrasting the motion outside with his stillness. The discarded bag beside him hints at a long journey or a life in disarray. This moment encapsulates the quiet despair of exhaustion physical, emotional, or both where even the simplest acts of moving forward feel insurmountable.
Kraton Kush 
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