The Snippets of Life

Chapter One - Mentally spirialing

    

  I think I got up this morning. I remember the floor being cold.. or maybe that was yesterday. The coffee tasted like metal — if I even made any, but usually its sweet. Theres a cup in the sink now, but it could be from last week, I could be wrong. Time has been slipping by like water in the cracks of the ceiling. Watching it drip slow and steady,I can't exactly remember when this started. Maybe yesterday. maybe last week. Who knows really cause I surely dont.

I suppose I go call someone. Or I could go somewhere. But theres no one to go. I look at my phone and see 'Breathe' in all caps. Did I write that? God thats pathetic.. reminding myself of the obvious. Its stupid. Or smart. Maybe both. I cant tell, my head is too loud to tell anymore.

The walls breathe sometimes. I swear they do. Not loud, but just enough to make me pause and listen. Like the apartment is exhaling when I'm not. I haven't opened a window in days—I think. The air tastes thick, like it's gone sour from staying too long.

There's a smell I can't place. Not quite rot. Not quite mold. Just something wrong.

I tried to write things down once. Tried to map the spiral. Notes, reminders, mantras. Now all they do is stare back at me, empty and pointless. "Take a walk." "Eat something." "You are not drowning." Lies dressed up like help.

I'm not even sure if I've spoken out loud today. My voice feels buried somewhere beneath the buzzing, behind the thoughts I don't want to think anymore. If I talk, I might crack open. If I move too fast, I might shatter.

I think I'm disappearing in slow motion, and no one's watching.

I sat down on the floor, knees pulled to my chest like I'm trying to shrink out of existence. I don't even remember getting there. The tiles are cold. Maybe they always were. Maybe I've been here before.