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06/02
apathy is real nice.
Is it?
yeah. usually i think i'd be stressin out about that essay due tomorrow. and the uh, what's it. the assignment.
Huh.
and also people. being close to people stresses me out sometimes. a lot. but it's okay right now.
i think running from my problems will work.
Mhm.
How are you feeling?
feeling? not much.
And?
well, my head hurts a bit. i was considering going for a drink, actually. but then i thought. wait, that would make my head hurt more.
Probably.
yeah. and it's getting pretty late, anyway.
It is.
i might still go fix up a drink for myself, though.
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"Why?"
Because a rope, a tree, and a tree stump were enough to create a gateway that could've lead to peace.
"But why?"
It's like how people will go out into the woods for a nice picnic, away from the chaos of their usual lives. Not much different, yeah?
"I'm asking why."
You can't take a hint, can you? Why? Why do you want to know?
"I want to know why you tried to do it."
Hah. What are you, a broken record? Asking with that collar still looped around your neck. Pathetic.
"Why did you do it?"
You can't even hear me, can you. I don't need to answer you.
"Why?"
Just stop asking.
"Why?"
Stop.
"Why?"
Shut up.
"Why?"
"Why did you do it?"
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Why?"
You already know the answer to that question.
"Why?"
Don't you?
"Why?"
...
"Why?"
Look around you.
"Why?"
Do you see what you are?
"Why?"
Do you see where you are?
"Why?"
Do you see who you are?
"Why?"
Do you see why?
"Why?"
Do you see?
"Why?"
DO YOU SEE?
DO YOU SEE WHY?
DO YOU SEE?
"..."
Do you see why?
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do you miss it?
Miss what?
being able to tell time. having a place in the world. fulfilling your purpose.
No.
why not?
Because there is something much more important to me than watching the hands on The Clock tick by, than fitting in to a small corner of the world, than fulfilling a purpose which someone set up for me.
there is?
Yes.
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The reason they'd been there.
Of course. What had I been thinking? I hadn't been thinking, that's what. If someone was up there, in a place like that...
A bitter laugh escapes me as I bury my head in my arms, sitting curled in on myself in a random alleyway.
I don't have a place to stay. I don't have anyone to turn to. I don't even have a place to die, now.
It's cruel to be driven to the point of wanting to die, but its even crueler to be forced to live.
"What am I supposed to do now...?
Leaning back against the rough concrete wall, warm tears trail down my cheeks as I exhale, staring up at the sliver of gray sky.
Grieving for a hopeless future, and a person whose name I don't even know.
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"What are you doing here?"
Opening my eyes, a teen with empty blue eyes is peering down at me through the thinly wired fence. The fading glow of the sunset reflecting off of their glinting necklace, they tilt their head.
"...Nothing much."
Standing, I hook two fingers onto the fence, anchoring myself. I might feel bad in the afterlife if I accidentally fell now, making this person watch me die.
"You were planning to jump, weren't you?"
Well... I was sitting on the edge of the rooftop. I guess that's the obvious answer.
"..Yeah. Too obvious, huh?"
I swing lightly by my hooked fingers, leaning into the wind. I wonder if this person, too, will berate me for wanting to die.
"Wanna grab an ice cream with me?"
I stare at them in surprise. Ice cream? That's quite sudden. But then again, what do I have to lose? Death will always be here, waiting for me.
Laughing, I swing myself over the fence.
"Sure. I don't have any money, though."
"That's fine. i have enough for the both of us."
The two of us walk down the long, crumbling flights of stairs together. Somehow, it feels cathartic. It’s much easier going down than up. Hopping the jagged wiring around the building, we set off to the nearest ice cream shop.
It's not like they're particularly charismatic. It's not even that they're particularly warm and friendly. But something about them feels comfortable. Familiar, but refreshingly so.
The first lick of my plain vanilla ice cream floods my taste buds. Sweet and creamy. Cold... my tongue tingles.
As they turn turn their short, black haired head away, I wipe my eyes as discreetly as I can. When was the last time I'd let myself enjoy some ice cream like this?
We chat about about what seems like everyday things. Although they don't seem very expressive, conversation flows easily. When was the last time I'd talked to someone like this?
Our nonchalant time comes to an end as I lick the last sticky remains from my lips.
"This was really nice. Thank you."
They smile. The first time I've seen their expression change, I think.
Nodding, they wipe their hands on a napkin, and start walking out to the road.
"i had fun, too. Thanks."
They go their own way, and I turn to walk mine.
Maybe today just wasn’t the day.
Returning to my small, empty apartment room, I sleep soundly for the first time in a while. Curled up in thin, tattered blankets, I dream of laying beneath a shower of shooting stars.
…But reality is reality. It doesn’t magically get better just because of a single event.
Food, bills, rent, tuition. No money for that. Friends, family- none of that, either.
I don’t have anything but my slowly beating heart.
And so I walk once again. To a familiar building.
Surely this time. This time will be the last.
I freeze mid-step at the small crowd of officers and white clad workers.
Yellow tape is strung around the desolate area, hanging from bright orange cones like the sad remains of a party long finished.
A worker starts towards me, but my mind fogs as a familiar glint catches my eye.
There, next to the pale finger peeking out from underneath a dirty white sheet.
The necklace from that day.
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i hate that everyday we have to wake up and do things i think we should be able to lay in bed for as long as we want and perform the action of doing nothing and living. living as in the act of breathing and the motion of your heart pumping blood, not whatever shit people say you have to do in order to “live”
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If you could have one wish granted,
what would you wish for?
i would wish for world peace.
If everyone is happy, then i am happy.
i would be satisfied by seeing the happiness of others.
i would wish for an easy life.
i dont want to go through any hardships anymore.
im tired.
i would wish to see my sister again.
Whether that be here on earth, or in heaven or in hell, i dont care.
i just want to see her again.
i would wish to pause time.
In a moment where everything is perfect, or in a moment where there's nothing wrong.
i'm scared of what the future might bring.
i would wish for an endless supply of money.
People say money can’t buy happiness, but that’s not necessarily true.
Without it, you'll only encounter misfortune in this world.
i would wish to have had a happier childhood.
Because of past events, my future is now tainted. No matter how hard i try, i cant move on.
i want to be free of my past.
i would wish to forever be with my best friend.
We eat together. We laugh together. We do everything together.
i can't live without her.
i would wish for all humans to lose sentiency.
No pain, and no happiness.
One cannot exist without the other, so the easy solution would be to get rid of everything.
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i’ve been in here forever.
i’ve given up hope.
hope of getting out of here one day.
i know. i know i’ll be here forever.
this is just where i’m supposed to be.
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hey.
are you like me too?
are you also stuck somewhere?
..
i wonder what it looks like over there.
is it the same?
…
i’m going crazy, aren’t i. who are you, even?
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i’ve been in here forever.
i’m starting to think it’s useless, no matter what i do.
i don’t know why i still hope.
hope that one day, i’ll be able to get out of here.
is there even a world out there?
is this the whole world?
…
hope is kinda pathetic, huh?
especially in a place like this.
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i’ve been in here forever.
i think I’m starting to go crazy.
i can’t see anything.
i can’t do anything.
even if i move, i can’t see my own limbs.
so it’s the same thing as not moving at all.
right?
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hey.
you there.
you see me, right?
hey.
tell me what to do.
i’ve been in here forever.
can you get me out?
a… rope or something?
…
i know.
i know you can’t do anything to help.
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The boy's shoes clicked on the white tiled floor as he walked past the multitude of glass cages. Inside them were all sorts of creatures, vibrant and dull, solid and slimy. The boy himself held one of them in his arms, a sort of gooey blue creature which gave off a soft, luminescent glow in the dimly lit room.
"Stop."
The boy looked up, attempting to find something of his imagination.
"I said stop."
His eyes, similar to that of the creature in his arms, narrowed as he spoke.
"What are you?"
He talked to no one in particular. If anyone had come across him at the present time, they may have thought he was hallucinating. And perhaps he was. However, the possibility of another being walking into the room was currently, and had been, 0% for the last few years.
"Why do you talk in past tense? Stop it."
The boy let down the glowing creature onto a metal table with wheels.
"As if you know the future or something."
A narrator, of course, narrates the story they were assigned to tell. They have full knowledge and control over the future of the story and the characters within it. (The boy will scoff.)
The boy scoffs.
"Right."
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Stepping out of the mist, her gaze falls upon the only object in the sunlit clearing.
A tombstone.
She walks closer. A strange feeling of familiarity. A feeling of belonging. A feeling of peace.
The sun warms her chilled back as she kneels in front of the worn out stone. The grass tickling her legs, she traces a finger over the engraved name.
"----."
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There was once a house with no doors.
Imagine it. See it in your head.
Do you see it?
Keep the image in your head. Explore it.
Now, what did you see?
Did the house have openings where a door would usually be? Or was it simply a wall? Was it an open, welcoming house? Or a house with no way in and no way out?
Did it have windows? Or were those just openings as well?
Did it have no windows at all? Was it all simply a solid wall?
Were you inside the house? Did it have any furniture? Were there any lights?
Were you outside the house? Was there any grass? Were there any surroundings houses?
What does this all mean? Who knows!
What do you think it means?
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I eat because I want to.
I don't talk because I don't want to.
I walk because I want to.
I don't sleep because I don't want to.
The girl slides the paper to the boy next to her. On top of the paper is her name, written in thin flowered letters. Nihilism.
The boy reads her words. Pressing his pencil against the paper, he writes.
You eat because you want to. Do you brush your teeth?
He returns the paper to the girl.
Yes.
Do you want to?
Not really.
Then why do you do it?
Because I have to. I can't eat otherwise.
The boy smiles.
And you can't walk without sleeping, either. You have to sleep, to enjoy the sun warming your skin, the breeze whispering in your ear. For you to continue being you,
Nihilism,
You have to find a balance. It doesn't have to be what everyone else does. It can be your very own balance, your very own world.
Make it your own,
Nihilism.
So you can continue being you, for as long as you want to.
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sometimes, you don’t even try.
because you know you won’t make it,
because you simply don’t want to,
because you’re just tired of it all,
you look up at the tower
watching the bodies climb and fall
and you know
that that’s okay.
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