Just Thoughts

X

09.12.2020

I wonder why... Tonight, time went on slower. It seems the night is longer than before and it's quieter than ever.

How did I come to hate longer nights yet feared the rising of the sun?

Was it because, I lie on a bed alone, or spend my restless night without any company yet still yearning for the comfort of others?

Since when did the night turn colder, longer, and be filled with nothing but darkness and silence?

There's no moon on the sky and the small shining stars are veiled in by the thick and dark clouds shrouding the night in complete darkness.

Since when have I lost interest of things to do, ideas to write, will to fight, a voice to scream and strength to stand?

What I've feared has come before me once again. Reminding me once more of the time when I realized too late of things I have lost.

When I've forgotten of how things were. Of how fun it is just to run on the plains feeling the wind on my skin and have my hair flying behind me as I chased a butterfly. I've forgotten of how to laugh genuinely, cry till my eyes ran out of tears, or remember the joyous part of life.

How frightening. At a young age not even reaching up twenty, was I a child, felt exhausted and tired to even imagine.

Having to fear without the reward of comfort or a mere guilty pleasure will drive anyone into the brink of insanity. Failure without the woes of triumph will only bring about more mistakes and losses.

I, a seventeen year old, am tired of living.

Fighting without support and reason is just useless with the end goal that's but a speck in the dust. With the path as uncertain as the mysteries of the cosmos. I'm tired of going to the battle field without a sign of victory or truce. Tired of being left standing alone on a blood spilled ground with only my clothes on. Without even a single armor or a shoe, even a weapon is impossible. To face legions of soldiers, don't you think the future seems rather bleak to see?

Or was it because my vision is getting blurry as my body is getting eaten up by fatigue and this cold feverish disease. Or is it because of these strange voices in my head that whispers sweet temptation of death into my ears? The unseen hands that clawed on my skin, grabbed onto my limbs to my neck and ever so sweetly squeezed the air out of me. Maybe the lack of oxygen is to blame? I have forgotten since when was the last time I have breathe to the point I don't remember having air into my lungs as I've always felt submerged thirty feet under water and is sinking deeper than before.

Helpless. Voiceless. Useless. Worthless.

These are but mere words that describes I.

I am a seventeen year old child, wishing to the creator of the universe for me to die.