i never understood why we did it. why we would force ourselves out of bed, only to go make our way over to a building. a building where we'd watch the same people make the same choices day after day after night after night. have the same stupid, meaningless conversations over and over again. and i guess, one day, i just got so tired of it that i decided to stop. i stopped forcing myself out of bed and i stopped making my way over to the building. but those weren't the only things i stopped doing.
i stopped eating. i stopped getting dressed. i stopped sleeping. i stopped talking. i stopped caring. and then my mind took me to a place far worse than a building. a place where my one thought scared the hell out of me. the thought of if i had stopped caring, then what've i started being? and the answer to that thought was even scarier than the thought itself; for the answer was nothing. i had become nothing but a body wasting space on some rock. this led me to want to leave this rock with the wish of whatever comes next is better. and that's how my story almost ended.
YOU ARE READING
dispositional tendencies
Poetrya collection of writing and poetry i wrote about things that i can't always say out loud. i hope you enjoy this and can find comfort in knowing others feel the same as you and that you are not alone :)
