(??? P.O.V.)
October 10, 2010
I had a dream last night, not a good one. It was not a nightmare, yet at the same time it was.
There was nothing. No dark and no light, no thoughts nor any ideas. And all I could do was stare at the nothingness, but I was not scared. There were no emotions, and I could not think of anything to make me frightened. All there was, was nothing. And it terrified me to a point of no reason.
This morning, I began to write about the dream. It held absolutely no detail, yet so much at the same time. The was nothing, but everything. And I described it. From what I should have or could have felt, but didn't. Of all the millions of possibilities of things I could have been thinking, but wouldn't.
It was an impossible thing. For that time- no matter how short- there was absolutely nothing in my head. Nothing. No thought nor sound nor emotion was there and I wasn't there. I was gone. To some place far away, as if dead, and I can't find my own body or any thought of anything. I couldn't feel. And that thought alone send shivers down my spine. Alone. In neither darkness nor light, nor cold or warmth. I wasn't even me, my body nor mind there.
And I wrote, the agony that came from feeling so dead, so obsolete. All alone in a chilling corner of my room, moving pen across paper menacingly, trying to erase this darkness I felt.
YOU ARE READING
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Random'And sometimes she has this look; Like she's so sad, but she can't remember why..' M. That's her name, just M. As simple as that. Don't ask, she'll never tell. She looks about in her...
