'i never got to catch your name.'
ඩා
Sometimes, life can be tiring. Everybody's life has will be, is, has been tiring. It's that one point in your life you think you cannot mentally and physically go on and you slouch in your bed for hours at a time.
That's the case for me right now, and they said it should just pass by like a scene in a movie. It doesn't, I've been counting down the days I've been nothing in bed. Scrolling down a random social app until my eyes give out and I see a vision underneath my eyelids. They call it dreams. You can never reach them.
That's fun, I guess. Doesn't it help pass the time? Maybe I should sleep more often. Sometimes I'd just wish I'd stop breathing in my sleep.
It feels as if the whole weight of the world is on my chest and my entire being is about to be crushed and shattered. Like I'm hanging on one piece of thread or one pinky finger.
Can I even remember my name anymore? What if I just run away? Would that make my situation any better?
Maybe I can find someone who can understand me and we'd run together forever and ever until our legs give out. Was that another dream? Maybe. Just maybe. Of course it was.
Even in the deepest pit of depression, I still somehow have the energy to walk. That's surprising. Piles of clothes, garbage and litter everywhere in my room. I can't even make out a path to my bathroom. I need a deep cleaning for my room. It reeks.
Slowly, my feet reached below the ground. The unfamiliar fur of the carpet tickles my feet, it's weird. I made my entire room like a garbage can, what can I do? I tiptoed on the still exposed carpet, into the bathroom.
It was somewhat a little more cleaner than my bedroom, which made me a little better. There was a dirty toothbrush and and a paper thin empty toothpaste tube on the floor, and I would've been disgusted if I weren't already used to the condition I was living in.
Nevertheless, I left there. There wasn't much to see, anyway. Instead, I tiptoed out into the hallway. It looks almost haunting, so clean but dusty at the same time. You could almost tell nobody's been here in a while.
I wanted to run out of there. Run until I reached a cliff so I could dive down and end my life on the stop. And I did. It felt refreshing to feel my legs actually do something than to stay in one position for days. When did I learn how to run? I don't know.
I ran out of the door, I could've sworn people nearby looked at me as if I was crazy. I lost track of time, so I looked at the sky to find it was midday. It was probably a bad idea to do this in the first place, but who cares at this point?
I don't know how many miles I've ran. I don't know where I am. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what to do but run. It's unrealistic. But I wanted to run away.
Run away from what? My depression? It's not leaving. It never left. A quick little phase they said. I wish it were, otherwise I wouldn't be running to nowhere.
Maybe a quick stop wouldn't hurt. Would it? There's a small bench nearby, it has a good view of the sunset. I haven't seen a sunset in a while—no, I haven't seen the world in a while.
It was also dawning on me that I had no purpose in life anymore. I didn't know what I was doing. It felt unreal.
I was snapped out of another reality when I realized a stranger was sitting beside me. I didn't realize that. It's been a while since I communicated to anybody else, I haven't even spoke to my parents since I left.
Not that they would communicate with me right? That would be awkward. I hope I don't look like a mess. I didn't check the mirror earlier. When was the last time I showered? Not too long ago, maybe? Do I reek? Hopefully not.
