her patience and understanding. her virtue of love that fuses and discombobulates the togetherness of a forbidden force of nature and reality she yearns. two bodies, one soul ridden with dire consequences of togetherness; but still they seek to make...
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It was an indifferent day of multifaceted expression outside the walls of Presbyterian, every waking and walking person with their head down and moving at a maximum speed that does nothing for the way the frigid kisses of flakes melt against the warmth of their sullen faces within the masses they thrived. Those with umbrellas take wider berths of one another whilst the rest take care to duck when the jabbing spokes come their way down the very slip of the cement and their crowded essences. The roads and sidewalks had become dangerous, lacking of the mineral needed to diminish the darkening slush they trek and granting those eyes a movie of falling bodies ever so occasionally, a sight that brings slight comfort to the face that smiles small before her face loses its signs of humanity and its ability to feel. That body functions purely off will— purely off subconsciousness— listening wholly the sound of feet on slippery rock of the wet pavement almost lost against the splashing of the traffic, only the click of high heels still clear over the calming din of snow fluttering along the masses like a salt shaker into the bubbling fury of boiling water that is the warmth of Earth against its frozen existence. Snow fell beautifully along the land she'd grown accustomed to admiring from afar, the usual smell of the fumes having become dampened by the hazy crystals of Earths frozen tears and every face on the blank-to-stressed spectrum at 6am was always the same.
And from afar, stories high above and encompassed in the lifeless frigidness of the hospital walls she watches with a deep and intent infatuation, truly pondering and wondering why the faces of the people living their lives to a casual extent below her were so... disconsolate.
The city was always so bright, and it was huge too, bright lights, big city. That's what New York was known for. And it's people, they were blessed, whole with the means of freedom, the means of will to do whatever and be wherever whenever they wanted, freedom from shackles, freedom from oppression and confinement, freedom from things that seemed to be all her very own life was as the days pass her by. She was desolate, annoyed, jealous— because as much as the sight was deeply infatuating, it was also one hell a of depressing sight to see which led her into a pit of her own unexplainable pit of rage, dire shame, and confusion. Watching the stale faces and the dispiriting way no one looked as if there was something to live for in life outside of Creedmor, outside of the hospital, and outside of the daunting means of her antagonistic mind as though life was what it was. The life she lived confined within the entrapping world of voices and fake dreams, a life of being left in the dark and babied, it wasn't a life she wanted and a life she didn't need if she ever saw a day outside the walls of medical establishments. She needed not the bland scenery, the desolation, the sullenness of the world when that's all she lived in within the walls of Creedmor, and if it was to be such a way outside of the medical world, she was slowly losing hope in the better life she imagined outside of Creedmor and its mental and emotional draining of her independence from insanity and the willingness she nurtured in the fulfillment of living a meaningful life.
