Sleepwalking my way through life: "I will savour every damn moment."



"I will savour every damn moment."

Thank you very much universe.

On the way to work today I had a smile on my face and a skip in my step. But I was knocked to the ground by a rumble at my feet. The universe had just stepped on someone, and now I'm in for it too.

This statement isn't actually fair, since I'm being selfish and seeing what's bad for me in someone elses problem. But, to to me, their problem is my problem.

I am standing in a dark room with a nothing but a large glass window that is providing the only source of light. Beyond the window is another room, bathed in a cold, glaring white light, almost too bright to see. In the centre of the room is small black, featurless body, hunched over and standing still.

It's dying inside.

The body can't hear me, can't see me, but I can hear and see it. It begins to move around, half-heartedly dragging its feet across the glaring floor. It begins to speak of its life and what it's done. I watch it as it tells its life to the empty white room, and I begin to understand.

But do I really?

It stops moving, standing stark still in the middle of the room, but it still continues speaking. It becomes more rapid, more desperate in its attempt to finish the story. The amount of information is overwhelming, the body's words are nothing more than jibberish to my ears. It's in pain.

And I can't help it.

My nose is pressed against the glass, my quickened breathing creates clouds that threaten to obscure my view, my hands pressed up against the surface as I try to push through. My breathing freezes, my eyes wide as I witness what happens. The body throws it's hands to its ears and begins to scream a heart wrenching scream. My body throws itslef against the glass, trying to get through.

But I can't.

My heart is trying to tear its way through my ribs and flesh to reach it. My lungs explode as I let out a yell. I bellow through the glass at the body. But it can't hear me.

"I'm here. I'm here."

I soon realise that its bleeding. A pool of red is contaminating the spotless white floor, spreading across the ground aroud the body. My fists pound the glass causing cracks to appear. With one last desperate attempt I throw myself through the pane and land in the pool of blood at the body's feet. I am hurt.

My pain has nothing to do with the shards of glass.

I stand up, soaked in blood and stare into the body's eyes. They're blank, lifeless.

Don't tell me I'm too late.

It falls limp and I try to catch it, but it has the consistency of air and passes through my hands. It lands with a thud on the ground, it's breathing slow and shallow. It's eyes are still glazed open as if it's dead. But it's not.

I can still help it.

And I will.

There will be a day when I have the opportunity to shove my foot into the universe's ass. And when that day comes I will savour every damn moment.
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1 Comments:

At 4:29 am, Blogger You know, that Laura person. said...

*hug*

That's scary...

And I'm sorry for making you upset. I hope I wasn't the reason for that post.

*hugs again*

 

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