That feeling 

you know that feeling when you’re lying on the ground and all your blood is pouring out and you know you’re slowly dying, but you’ve lost too much blood that you can’t get up, and you don’t even care to do anything about it? that’s me right now. and I’m not sure if what I’m seeing now is a dream or if my life is flashing before my eyes or if it’s something else, but

this is what I see: I’m hunched over the toilet puking my brains out, and a voice tells me the end of the world is coming. somehow I have the energy to run to your house. somehow, before the windows shatter and everything becomes nothing, I grab your hand and this is how we turn to dust.

this is what I see: I barge into your room as you’re taking a toke, and at first you panic, but then you say, “oh, okay. it’s just you.” it’s just me.

this is what I see: the world is spinning. it’s a blur of lights, a carousel of colours. I’m dancing. when I close my eyes, I see myself falling, but keeping my eyes open makes me feel dizzy. I’m confusing the sights I see with opened eyes for the pictures I see with closed eyes. I’m scared to death. I’m crying hysterically. I’m so fucking drunk. 

this is what I see: my guts on the footpath. it looks like a picture I sketched last week. it looks like the bruises on my left hip and right cheek. I see a world with no sun but with flashlights blinding me and one hundred faces in my face poking me with sticks and asking me if I’m still alive.

this is what I see: I’m running. the wind is strong enough to push me down to my knees, and running too fast is still not fast enough, so I run until my lungs crumble and I collapse and I cry I cry I cry. I look like I’m drowning in a river but feeling alright. I see myself lying in the grass and I’m inhaling, I’m exhaling. the earth underneath me is breathing with me, and maybe I will not die alone after all.


Imagine being in a dark room, cold, void, lonely and quite scary.Are you there? – in your mind can you see that?, imagine being in that room for as long as you can remember, and at night, the faces, the whispers, mocking you, coldly reassuring you that you are always going to be alone, with just them. 

Do you know who they are? They are your fears, your doubts, your obsessions, your demons, everything that has driven you to that dark room.
Then imagine you can hear someone on the outside of that room, speaking, through the wall, at first you don’t want to hear them, just another nasty trick, I mean who would be interested in talking nicely to YOU?!

But, No, They are there, they are still talking to you, telling you things are going to be okay, they start creating chinks in that wall, tiny shafts of light start illuminating that room, the faces, they don’t like that light, the voices, they don’t either, they get less and less, the light gradually gets more and more. 
Still with me? 

Eventually, there is a hole in the wall, almost the whole room is full of light, that same person is beckoning you towards the hole in the wall away from that room, you’re apprehensive, so you take some talking around, but eventually you trust them, I mean they have freed you, only the deepest and darkest corners still aren’t touched by the light, you are about to walk out through that hole, into nothing but light, then that room itself will become a distant memory, and that same person who reassured you, who freed you, they push a boulder over the opening and walk away, all the lights gone, the faces come back worse than ever, their annoyed you almost left them. 

That room never seemed so dark, so cold, so void. Thing is, the only way out through this seemingly endless density of solid wall, is to scratch your way out – with your bare hands.

You sit and consider this for some time, then think, even if I do get out there isn’t anyone waiting on the outside, so what is the point in hurting yourself in the struggle to get out, just to be as alone out there, as you are in here. 

Other voices, not as strong – you can hear them on the outside of the wall, making feeble attempts at reassurance, but you don’t want to hear them anymore, no more hope, that person took all that with them, the first time you trusted someone, they broke it, shattered it like a mirror, why would you trust someone ever again? 

Its okay, you can stop imagining that cold room now, come back to the reality of where you are sitting, feel the warmth, see that soft light, but spare a thought, that I cannot stop, because what you have just imagined, is my reality every single day.