Life goes on. Everyone is out there, doing the things they love, smiling at the winter sunshine. And here you are, curled up inside, feeling worthless and empty, and not even mustering hope to get through. It doesn’t even seem unfair anymore.
You get what you deserve, usually, even if it comes from the most unexpected places and at the most inopportune times. Like when you want to feel great, and pull together to show a brave face and even believe for a bit of time that you may actually succeed. Convincing others has always been easier than convincing yourself. You are among many people the most alone, as the song says. You look at the bedroom floor and you see plates, glasses, mugs showing off what you had to eat the day before and a vicious sensation of disgust takes hold of you.
Life is hard, they say. They probably mean the physical act, not the sensations: the disgust, the loathing, the invisible hand that goes around your waist and keeps you gasping for air.
Life is a story of spaces, even when you are a waste of space. You imagine an exhibition of the spaces in your life – mainly absences, those define you better at any rate. You are passing through as a soundless spectator, wanting to vanish, so you and the space can finally become one and void. That’s what you are, a blank blink to the side table of nothingness.
Music: Black Friday by Tom Odell
Waltzing On A Trampoline 