I picture a place. I imagine that it is quite dark there, but I cannot really tell because it’s all in my head.
I can only picture so much darkness before it becomes fuzzy at the sides and light around the edges.
It seems to me that a human’s intellectual capacity can only process so much nothingness at once. I am calm.
And I do not know if I am awake yet, but I can hear myself breathing and I feel the sunlight from my window, so I must be awake in some manner of the word.
But I cannot tell if I am awake until the moment I try to lift my eyes’ heavy lids, dragged down with the temptations of sleep.
My mind remains blank with that fuzzy, white-lined darkness I refer to as ‘oblivion’. I reckon that many others would call it oblivion as well because that is what darkness is: oblivion.
I blink once. Twice. My mind clears.
And oh, my mind clears and I grieve because I miss the blissful oblivion in which there is no thought, and as soon as I start to think,
my thoughts jumble-up-and-I-cannot-hear-myself-think-or-breathe-or-live-and-am-I-alive-oh-dear-God-please-spare-me-let-me-live-please-for-I-have-not-sinned-what-the-hell-did-I-do-wrong-I-HAVE-NOT-SINNED-
Please. Please. Please.
Let me breathe I can’t breathe I failed I failed I failed I failed. I can’t breathe let me breathe I can’t cry le t m e c r y. p l e a s e.
I tell myself that I will one day be relieved of all the stress and self hatred but I cannot help but think that it would only be possible through death. And I just cannot cry anymore and my eyes remain dry even though I have so many cuts on my heart and maybe my arm that drain my blood and yet-
my eyes remain dry. Please, just let me cry. Please. Please. Please.
WHY CAN’T I CRY
I am broken. This happens in a span of about five seconds.
My heart races to catch up with my brain,
my lungs struggling along as I repeat the word “please” over and over again until I do not know what “please” means and I do not know why I am repeating it in the first place.
I throw my covers to the side, and I swing my legs over the bed, sitting still for a second to collect myself and brace myself for the school day to come.
shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up WHY IS MY HEAD SO NOISY
But outside I smile to be polite and I raise my hand and answer questions and ace tests because that makes them like me more and makes them admire me and envy me and that makes me better.
Does it really? I cannot tell. I do not care. But my parents do, and I care about my parents so I care. I think I care. I hope I care because that makes me better.
I go home and realize that I did not smile to that random stranger, I did not raise my hand enough in biology,
and I did not ace my test so I am not liked and I am not admired and I am not envied and I am not better and I am not loved. But those are lies and I am selfish.
I do not deserve to be loved but I am. I so am, and yet I want to be loved more. I am selfish. I am not better.
When night time finally comes, I am relieved. Every waking moment is a war I rage with my own mind, and I think I am slowly drowning myself with my own thoughts. But I survived. I survive.
I will survive because a human brain will only be able to process so much darkness before it can only see light. And even if it is dark, I will see the light around the edges.
But please, don’t make me repeat this entire thing. Not again. Please.
Please, don’t wake me again.