MINSUNG ONESHOTS

lost

when you feel lost, you can't really feel anything. it's as though you've been stripped of all the things that once anchored you, all the familiar patterns and comforts that used to give your life shape and direction.

everything around you is blurred, distant, like you're looking through fogged-up windows. it's hard to pinpoint when you started to feel this way, or why. maybe it's been a slow, creeping sensation, or maybe it hit you all at once, a moment where you realized that you didn't recognize the person you had become, or the life you were living.

the feeling of lostness is a strange one, because, paradoxically, it's not always about being physically lost. you can be surrounded by people, in places you've visited a hundred times, yet still feel as if you're drifting, untethered. it's like being in a room full of noise, and yet, everything feels silent— you're in the middle of it all but not a part of it. the world moves, and you don't.

it's not so much about being disconnected from others, though that's part of it, but more about being disconnected from yourself, from your own needs, desires, and emotions. when you feel lost, it's as if you've fallen through the cracks, and you're too far gone to climb back up.

your mind races, but in a way that doesn't take you anywhere. your thoughts come in waves, each one crashing over you like a tidal wave. one minute you might be thinking about the past, wondering where you went wrong, and the next, you're thinking about the future, terrified of what might come next.

everything feels overwhelming, but also strangely distant. you know something's wrong, though you can't quite put your finger on it. everything seems out of focus, as though you're viewing life through a tinted lens, everything muted and softer than it used to be. you're searching for something, but the harder you look, the further away it feels.

sometimes, when you feel lost, it's not that you don't know where you are, it's that you don't know who you are anymore. you've lost touch with the version of yourself that once had dreams, had goals, had a sense of direction.

you wonder when you stopped believing in the things you once wanted, or when they started feeling so distant that they became nothing more than abstract concepts, things that belong to someone else, not you. the person you used to be seems like a stranger now, someone you can barely recall. and in that absence, you're left with nothing but the echoes of who you used to be, faded and distorted.

the emptiness isn't always loud, though. sometimes, it's quiet and subtle, like a low hum you can't ignore but can't quite hear either. it's the space between moments, the emptiness that settles in when the excitement dies down, when the adrenaline fades, and you're left with nothing but silence.

you might try to fill that silence with distractions— work, people, anything to make the noise stop. but the more you fill it, the less you feel. the more things you do to outrun the feeling of being lost, the deeper you fall into it. it's like running on a treadmill, moving, but staying in place, no matter how fast you go.

you might try to remember what it felt like to feel grounded, to feel like you had purpose. maybe you think back to a time when things were easier, when you knew who you were and what you wanted. however, even those memories seem distant now, like something out of reach.

it's hard to remember what it was like to have clarity, to know that everything you were doing was moving you in a certain direction. now, it feels like you're wandering aimlessly, not sure what you're looking for or even if you'll find it when you do. you can look around, but all you see are possibilities that don't feel real, paths that no longer feel like yours to take.

sometimes, you wonder if anyone else feels this way too. maybe they do, but it's not something people talk about. maybe they're all just pretending, going through the motions, acting like they know exactly where they're headed while you stand on the sidelines, feeling like you've missed the memo.