Who am I?

The plastic animal movement.
Wake up my most deeper instinct...

Like everyday.
Monday to Friday.

I can't write
without see.

I  can't write if I use my voice.
I feel exposed,
nude,
hopeless...

No seconds thoughts.
There's no beginning,
there's no happy ending.

It's friday,
evening everyday.

Like everyday.
Monday to Friday.

The prison of my skin...
Who am I?