Midnight talks withchai,vape,blade,love,voices,andMe.

Midnight things....

Right now, it's 2:00 am, and I'm making chai for my anxiety, friend. He has a superpower. Power that people can't see him except me and he always sticks to my back like a good friend but he is a big prankster too sometimes he stops my breathing, making my whole-body dance head to toe, sometimes Anxiety jump scares me like he suddenly hugs me and then balloons starts popping up in my lungs, my throat goes numb, my tongue goes dry at the end I start behaving like a freak all thanks to my dear friend Anxiety and his stupid pranks but still he is my friend and I can take his pranks but sometimes he makes me embarrass in front of people, remember people can't see him and that's why I always have to be a freak in front of people and you all guys will think "How toxic friend you got!!" but No, this is how prankster friends can be sometime. I tell you how to identify a prankster or a super funny friend. This kind of friend will shout out your secrets to everyone because it's funny. It's funny when they spread false rumours about you, and it's funnier when they treat you super nice at first, but later on, they start treating you as nothing. I'm lucky I have a few friends like this with me, and anxiety is also with me. That is super great.

Anxiety: "Oh, your stupid chai, you always ruin my pranks."

He hates chai because it ruins his pranks on me.

Me: "Ik, it helps me from you, LOL."

Anxiety: "Whatever, I'm saying yesterday was fun in the bus when I made your leg shake in front of those girls HAHA lol."

Me: "I hate you, man."

Anxiety: "LMAO, you're boring, and your chai too. I'm leaving, for now, you dumb fuck."

Me: "Phew."

Anxiety, Anxiety, Anxiety

When you come to mind,

I shiver.

Why does my heart rate increase?

when I think of you.

I can't sleep,

because of you.

by Pratyaksh

2:50 am. AHHH, OH GOD! I'm still sad. I don't know why, but I had my chai! It was supposed to take away my sadness, but it didn't. Now I've got to find a different way to vanquish my sadness and bring some peace to my flesh and soul. Oh, I know! Something that can bring happiness to me is a magical stick given to me by a strange wizard in an alleyway. Wizard was behaving friendly and talking about how he could bring lightness to my burdened shoulders and how he could give me a quick way to happiness, then he showed me a tube-like thing. It was a magic stick. Some people called it vaping, and I have one now. I rush to my room to get it from my drawer. I had it, and I quickly started using the vape. I put it in my mouth and tried to inhale the smoke. The exhale from the vape went through my mouth, making a quick trip to my lungs, soothing my inside flesh, and then through my nose. I felt the lightness in my body. The turning of my flesh and bones into air felt amazing. My whole body was feeling great, but still, something was there, like a void inside my chest, making me uneasy. I was uncomfortable with its existence. Vaping made me feel calm and happy, but it didn't vanquish my sadness. This time, I'm not angry; I'm just sad.

A ring as light as smoke

as it trails off from my

tongue and into the

ceiling.

__________________________________

Quitting the puffing in my dreams

but when I try, my body screams.

Telling me to get some nicotine.

If I cut my finger, I don't wine,

If I kick my toe, that's also fine.

But if my body asks for nicotine,

my sane,

goes' insane for nicotine.

by Pratyaksh

My theory says psychic pain hurts more than physical pain, but sometimes physical pain suppresses psychic pain. The pain inside me is like a tumour spreading from inside, but from outside, no one can see that I'm in pain, no one can see that my smile is fake, and truly, nobody wants to see that guy or that; they just want a positive kinda guy.

3:00 AM

Chai didn't work, nor did the vape. Things will be messy now. My breathing gets heavy, and I'm sweating like hell; everything is getting fast, and I can't think. The uneasiness makes me want to tear my flesh until that feeling is gone. Somehow, I reached the restroom and locked the door. Clam me. I took a deep breath. I took a razor from the shelf and smashed it against the wall. Took a rusty blade from the remains of a razor. The blade was in my hand, facing my wrist. I wanted to rip apart my wrist until the white washroom tiles turned red. I want to paint the walls of my bathroom with my slashed wrist; it'll be modern art after death. My family can earn money from this, but I don't want to die; I just want to vanquish my sadness. I moved the blade gently through my wrist, one cut after another, like a painter moving his brush on canvas. But it did nothing.

"Ha-ha, you can't get rid of these feelings, asshole," the voice in my head said. I just want to sleep. I want to go to dreamland, where my family and everybody else go when the sky goes dark. "you'll never. But there is one way to go there: pick up the blade and, with one slash, put a full stop to your life's story," said the voice.

I picked up the blade.

Voices aren't coming now, and I started thinking about love. I found love, but still, it feels like I've never been lucky enough to know what the hell it is, and that's a terrible affliction I don't wish on anyone. I'm still a love virgin, but I've tasted love just from one side. It hurts the most when you get something that reminds you there is a purpose to life, but when that something leaves you, it hurts a lot. I'm a love virgin; I've never received love from family or any girl, but one girl gave me love, but it was temporary.

The blade was in my hand.

3:59AM.