It would be silent had it not been for the dreary rain and insects. The house is all but alive.
It would be silent had it not been for the dreary rain and insects. The house is all but alive.  bleach stories
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alexguan
alexguan Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   25 days ago
Sometimes, we are in that uneasy moment when we just cannot explain our feelings. Maybe it was the fight our loved ones had, maybe it was witnessing trauma, or pressure from work, school or society. Whatever it is, our thoughts turn dark and we enter self-doubt and seek the emotionally escaping from the world.

It would be silent had it not been for the dreary rain and insects. The house is all but alive.

Bleached

Hey.

It's me again.

I'm back to haunt you.

You're in a dim, narrow hallway.

Hey.

The hairs on the back of your neck are itchy.

Don't be shy. It's a cruel, cruel world anyways.

Come along, I endeavour to have you again experience the pains of self-doubt along a chaotic, windy and aimless avenue.

Covid-19 was declared a pandemic over a year ago and it's still ravaging.

Our state was hit by a mismanaged series of damaging bushfires 15 months ago and this week was marked with torrential rains, excess floodwaters and civilians evacuating from washed-away homes.

You turn around, expecting to see your living room. You stare across, but it's literal blackness - the shattered window that's infected with buzzing insects and the splatter of rainfall.

The view of an empty night sky with no moon or stars.

It's a world of political infighting, wild weather, and a ravenous disease. You raise your head, but you see no glimmer in the distance to reach out for.

You see, we are all told we're different individuals, and admittedly, that's true. Yet some are in control of themselves, and some give way to the forces of the soul.

Whether that be emotions, pheromones, or peer pressure; and suddenly, a heavy weight - albeit it is totally made up by figment of your imaginations - has returned to your naive shoulders.

Turning a corner, you enter a dark room. With careful footsteps, feel the dampness, the unending thump of an unstable, rushing heartbeat.

You repeat to yourself: "I'm a horrible person, I'm a horrible person, I'm a fucking horrible person...

" Hoping that someone over a fading rainbow can grant you your happiness and a sense of normalcy. It's weird how we strive to blend in.

And in the process, you don't know where to place each step of your foot nor the pace you should be travelling at.

The waves of student entrepreneurs, academic high achievers, and peers who are generally just proud of their contribution to society just seem to brush past you every second.

Do you take genuine and meaningful actions to keep up? Or do you merely beat around the bush and eventually drown yourself in viscous mud?

You see, we are all told we're different individuals, and admittedly, that's true.

An even more devastating reality - many approach their differences with intentional fondness, proud of their differences, take advantage of their differences.

You say you've tried hard, but have you? If you have, why are you so angry at the way attraction works for you? Do you not believe your 'abnormality' is a blessing in disguise?

There, there. No need for tears. It's the same sensation and the same sensation anyways.

And you sit here, alone in a dark, dark room. You are cornered. You are belittled by those around you. You are haunted by your thoughts.

Grabbing the container beside you and taking off the blue cap, you curl up in a ball. The floorboards go creaking but you're unfazed.

You smell the chlorine, like a swimming pool infected by one-hundred toddlers' urine.

You raise the two-litre container. The plastic touches your lips, the liquid drips into your mouth. That feeling of when you accidentally swallowed water from your primary school pool event.

A fiery sensation exuberates at the tip of your tongue. Relentlessly, more liquid enters your system.

You repeat to yourself: "I'm a horrible person, I'm a horrible person, I'm a fucking horrible person...

" The memories of gloating at the images of naked bodies, the sensations your first felt when you discovered yourself via the internet back in primary school.

Your cheeks and throat feel the burn - like a Carolina reaper has been chewed up in your mouth. There's no hope, acceptance carried away by the wind.

It would be silent had it not been for the dreary rain and insects. The house is all but alive.

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