I felt helpless, I just couldn’t bring myself to move. My eyes were a steadily trickling river that soon became the largest waterfall ever known to man. My drawing, like my heart, was torn. To anyone else they would laugh at what I was crying about. You’re acting like a baby, own up and act like the grown man you are. I wish I could tell you its not age that defines us, but you wouldn’t believe me. I want to tell you that, god do I ever. Our capacity to care has diminished and I admit that personally. There isn’t much that really makes me excited anymore so when it does happen, when you anticipate that joy and it just doesn’t live up to your impossible expectations, how else would you feel? Completely and utterly crushed. Crushed like the insignificant ant that we are in the grand scheme of the universe. You’d feel so small, so irrelevant to anybody, especially yourself. You want that feeling when you were a child and everything was full of whimsy and spectacle, but now you’re old and not allowed to cry or show your true emotions without being ridiculed. You want to be surrounded by others but also want to be alone, but you can’t have both at the same time. You want to be alive and dead but you’re caught in the middle of a tornado. You want to be carefree but you aren’t allowed to. You want to express, but you will die. You always project, I always reject. I miss you so much but I realize I’ll never be the same human being. I hate being cynical, it feels like a disease. Just cut It right out of me. I miss my innocence. I miss it so much. So go on you can keep mocking me for crying over something as small as a piece of art, but that art was me, and it was real at some point.
The memories fade away only to come flooding back like an existential nightmare. Droplets of sorrow emerge from the nothingness that has become my body. Atom by atom, they all slowly dissipate and I am left in a void of my own creation. Some would call it a prison, to me, that’s my room. This tiny room where I try to lead a normal life, working, and doing recreational activities to remind myself I’m not a miserable human being with no self-worth. The air is colder than usual. I have everything to keep me comfortable, and yet its still not enough, when is it ever enough? I can’t have the things I really want. Companionship, a steady job, my chronic physical pain to stop. I hate what I’ve become. A greedy monstrosity. My mirror looks more warped by my progressively changing grotesque appearance. I still look normal, but that mirror shows the true me. I want to break it, but it never worked. I’ve tried hammers and even a cinder block but it only serves as a painful reminder of my anger. The thing won’t break. Maybe that’s just a sign of my own stubbornness but hell, I’ll never know. At night when I go to brush my teeth the thing shows me a premonition of my dreams, well nightmares. There’s something about losing that purity within yourself that slowly poisons a man. Your waking life comes back to haunt you when you’re most vulnerable. You ever felt your nightmares? I mean like really felt them? Like seizure level? Yeah well, that’s my normal now, it used to happen to me when I was homeless and that kind of thing changes a man. Imagine acutely feeling your brain strapped to a dentists chair with your eyes pulled open by hooks and being forced to watch mass genocide 24-7? A nightmare yes but when you have these seizures it’s like you’re really there, stuck in that chair. Some watch this voluntarily but not me. Truth be told, I hate the news. Nothing about seeing murderers ever appealed to me. I tried to stay away from that stuff but there was always at least one person in my life who would tell me about this stuff even though I never asked for it, and after hearing it all the time like clockwork I just couldn’t take it anymore. I lashed out at the mirror in a rage and it finally shattered.
The mirror showed all of my desires because it knew what I wanted. Smug little bastard. It was definitely alive, there’s no way around that. No ordinary piece of glass can do that but it seems so normal after how long I’ve been having this crap happen to me. Ever since I threw my phone at it after I got held up it had started acting like this. I know I’m jumping around a lot but isn’t that just how the brain is? A jumbled mess where if you keep thinking you might get one coherent thought? I’ve said too much. Between you and me I’m going to bed and putting this self-reflection nonsense behind me. Hopefully, I can get a good nights sleep now, and thanks for listening. John prepped his pillow and took several capsules of sleep aids before falling asleep.