The archive of the forgotten

Atlas is drowning

I look at the blank page. I cannot find the right words. I hit my head gently in frustration. My head feels too crowded, my headache is blocking up the flow of words that I always need to put down. I know that tomorrow that flow will come out in one brawl, it won't be story, it will be an incrompehensive ball of designated shapes of the alphabet in a order that does not mean a lot. Although in my head it meant a lot to me. I look up. Andrew is reading a book. I smile as I admire his eyes speeding over the letters, sucked into the world of the writer, singing along with it's symphony. He makes me smile, he will always make me smile. Whether that is a fake one, a melancholic one, an angry one or a genuinely happy one.

I was once told that I should seperate the good from the bad. But how could I when most things can be both. It depends how I am feeling. Beauty can be hopeful, it can bring you joy but if you ask it at another time I will say that it makes me feel futile. I feel futile, that is the best way to desribe the way I am feeling. If there are about 8,085,736,300 right now in the world, and that increases every second. what makes me special? How do I know that there are not hundreds of other atlas' that are carbon copies of me. Why am I me? Why couldn't I be somebody who enjoys the little things? I wonder if I am cursing my ever curious mind, because I love my mind. With it's whirlpools of knowledge and universes of questions, it's bright stars of curiosty that have blessed me in my mind. But that curiosity is so dangerous. I get lost in it. I will always be lost in the unknowing. I will always be scrambling for more knowledge, I will always be stuck in this endless pit of not knowing everything.

What if I forget? That is my number one fear. Forgetting, is somebody mentions it my heart will beat faster. What if I forget? What if something happens and I forget? What if I get old and start to forget? I feel tears prickling in my eyes as I look at him. What if I forget you? What if you forget me? What would happen to forever?

I shake the thought from my head and stand up. I draw a steaming hot bath, it hurts my skin as I get in. The water caresses my skin and hugs my chest as if doesn't want me to breathe. I close my eyes and slowly let my head underwater. The barrier between me and the real worls is only very small but it still comforts me to know that I am not there. I do not hear anything and my eyes are blurry. Water has always been something hopeful for me. It has always been something where I could forget life. The first time I went surfing, I was quite young, I might've been about five when I started it. The salty waves, the loads of salty see water you were ingesting, the way you were fighting the waves. It was such an adreline rush, everytime I run into the water it feels like I am a kid again. Everything is alright, all you care about it the beauty of mother natures strength. The big smirk as you return to the shore will never change. It is still the same face as I had when I was five.

I feel my lungs begging for air as I am still laying in the bath full of water. I do not oblige, my heart is panicking but my mind is clear. I will not move an inch till my body decides it needs to. I have heard a lot about drowning, they tell you there is uttercalmness when you body gives up fighting. I want to know what it feels like. What would it feel like? I imagine it feeling like a vacuum of nothingness, something akin to floating in space. My body is hurting in all ways, my lungs feel like they will explode in a second, My head hurts more than it has ever done. I close my eyes is it possible to cry underwater? My mouth open and water enter my Throat. My body jolts up as if has had an electric shock.

My exhausted body gasps for air and starts coughing. The coughing hurts as the water comes out of my throat. I feel the cold tears rush down my face, it feels like I am destroying my lungs with every cough. It feels like they're cleansing my lungs, but also of the blood that belongs there. I feel my stomach contents come up. It hurts as I release them. I sit down. I should not have done that.

I am putting on my leather jacket as Andrew enters the room. He hugs me from behind. "Are you alright?" I do not want to be a burden, I want to say yes, but I know he wouldn't believe me. I take a deep breath. "No" I say while putting on my dr martens. "Want to talk about it?" I shrug. "I do not think I really can, I do not understand myself completely, even if I would desperately want to." "Well, we don't need to" Andrew says as he puts his head on my chest. "See, you are alive." He says as he puts my hand on my heart. "That matters, as long as this is beating we don't need to worry my dear." He puts my hand on his chest. "We both are alive, and that is more beautiful than anything." I smile and try not to cry. "I do not want to be a burden." He chuckles. "How could you even be? I will always take care of you." I shake my head as I look at the stars out of my window. "It is rotten work. No one should be cursed to do it."

He puts down the needle on my record player. I smile as the Blue Danube behind to play. "Would you like to dance?" He asks I smile. "On one condition" "and that is, my good sir?" "That I am the one who leads" and so we are dancing in our room by candlelight. The stars shining bright through the window and for just a moment I was happier than the whole world.