Déjà vu sonder

Chapter 2 Storms of the Mind

Their journey through the mundane routines of life felt surreal, a disconnected existence where every moment was tinged with a haunting sense of purposelessness. "Why don't I just do it and die? Why don't I just kill myself if I want to so bad?" they questioned aloud, the words echoing in the empty spaces of their mind. "Why am I writing all this and destroying myself? I don't know, or I should know. I'm confused."

As the bus rumbled on, carrying Alex through familiar streets and fleeting glimpses of other people's lives, they contemplated their place in a world that felt increasingly foreign and indifferent. "Buses in the morning feel so dream-like," they reflected, their voice distant and detached. "Like I float through a dark valley filled with corpses you don't interact with. Every morning, it's a little out-of-the-world experience, headed to school."

Their thoughts wandered, grasping at the fragments of meaning amidst the relentless monotony. "I wonder how other people see me or why I'm not bothered to open up, maybe," they pondered, their words a whispered plea for understanding. "I feel the whole world is a game, and it's gonna restart soon. I'm just waiting for something to happen every day; it's the same - school, home, sleep. Repeat until something finally happens or the world ends."

The bus journey stretched on, a solitary voyage through the dimly lit streets that mirrored the shadows of Alex's thoughts. "I love buses, but I hate it at the same time," they confessed, a hint of resignation in their voice. "It's really the place where my mind gets all thinky and dark, with a bright star shining somewhere I can't reach fully yet. All the car lights, people who got jobs, people with lives - why are they doing it? I wanna go back to my bed, honestly, or sit on my PC and wait for what? End of the world? Judgment day?"

Their thoughts drifted to deeper contemplation, seeking solace in the belief that there must be a reason for their continued existence. "God protected me through so many things; there must be a reason why I haven't killed myself yet or these failed attempts," they murmured, a fragile thread of hope woven through their words. "Just let me sleep and wake me up once you hear; I can't stand this. Or can I?"

The bus finally came to a stop, jolting Alex back to the present moment as they disembarked, a solitary figure amidst the rush of strangers. "I really had the urge to just sit on the bus, felt no purpose to get off," they admitted quietly. "Still went off; fuck, I could've been zooming out in that seat for hours."
Arriving at school, Alex found themselves once again in the familiar but alien environment of sports practice. "Guess not, now I'm here at sport, only 4 people," they observed, their voice tinged with discomfort. "It's awkward; can't get myself to look up. They're talking about some stuff that's really irrelevant for me, so I'll just keep my head down and write to kill time."

The disconnect between their inner turmoil and the external world seemed insurmountable at times, a barrier that left Alex feeling isolated even in a crowd. "Sometimes, the stuff we do here feels really... I can't put it into words," they confessed, their thoughts trailing off into silence. "Fuck it; it doesn't matter anyway."

As conversations around them shifted to mundane topics like Christmas presents, Alex's mind wandered once more, grappling with the simple act of choosing a gift amidst the weight of their own struggles. "Someone mentioned Christmas presents; I haven't even gone outside to look for gifts," they admitted, their voice tinged with resignation. "Don't know what to get, only got a drawing. Is that enough? I already got enough stuff to deal with; that drawing should be okay, I hope, it does the job. I haven't even said my wishes; I can't think of anything I really want. I feel like I got all the things I need to survive."

Their journey through the day continued, each moment blending into the next with a haunting sense of inevitability. "I wonder... what purpose is there in this world?" Alex questioned softly, the words carrying the weight of their uncertainty. "Tell me, make me believe you."
And so, Alex's journey through the shadows of their own mind continued, a solitary quest for understanding, connection, and perhaps, ultimately, a glimpse of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf them.

Alex's journey continued to unfold in a labyrinth of thoughts and emotions, each day a struggle against the currents of their own mind. They found solace in writing, in the catharsis of putting their chaotic thoughts onto paper, creating a world where they could explore the depths of their inner turmoil without fear of judgment.

"Déjà vu, sonder," Alex murmured to themselves as they reflected on their recent experiences. "Cold weather, hands shaking. New faces, what to say, what should be kept secret."
Navigating social interactions remained a daunting task, a constant battle between longing for connection and the fear of vulnerability. "Calm down, down to earth," they reminded themselves, seeking comfort in the familiarity of their own solitude. "I can't express my emotions properly. In love with melancholy. I'm weird."

Their thoughts drifted, grappling with the complexities of human interaction and the relentless pursuit of understanding their own place in the world. "I get by, by sadness, fear of opening up. Why?" Alex questioned, their voice tinged with frustration and longing for answers. "Can't answer, reasons why no social media is used, scared, clueless replies, can't think of a reply."
The journey home, though transient, stirred contemplation about the uncertain future and the fleeting nature of human connections. "On my way home, or can't call it home, it's a temporary base," they mused, their thoughts wandering through the transient nature of their current existence. "Should I ask if we should see each other again? I feel the word is so offensive. I just wanna be polite and generous. I wouldn't even know what to do if I actually were to ask."

Their internal dialogue continued, wrestling with the elusive pursuit of fulfillment and purpose. "What do you do normally? I don't know what I'm seeking honestly. Comfort? Company?" Alex pondered aloud, their words a fragile admission of uncertainty. "Why can't I just go with the flow? Instead, I'm constantly trying to seek something. Is that normal, or is it just me?"

The longing for self-understanding and acceptance echoed in their thoughts. "Am I even interesting? How do you define someone interesting?" they questioned, their voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and self-doubt. "And would I even want to be interesting? I wanna go back to my four white walls. I took a step today, be proud  Be happy... Try, just try, maybe it would benefit me. But how and how?"

Despite their inner struggles, moments of fleeting happiness punctuated their existence, moments cherished yet elusive. "I felt happy yesterday," Alex recalled wistfully. "I didn't want that day to end. Why couldn't it just stay like that? Could I even maintain it if it didn't end? Wouldn't I just be a dog on a leash, following someone else's steps, instead of my own?"

Their vulnerabilities spilled onto the pages, each word a testament to their inner battles and the quest for understanding. "Fuck, I feel pathetic to write this, but I love doing it," they confessed, their voice a whisper in the quiet of their room. "But nobody would ever see this, my own little world I keep to myself, never hearing others' opinions on my world. It feels lonely in this world, a world where I can be who I want to be, in control of my sadness. I wouldn't know how to control it in the real world, and people would just think I'm weird."

The dichotomy of their dreams and reality blurred, offering glimpses into the complexities of Alex's psyche. "I can't stop thinking," they admitted, the words flowing freely as they poured their thoughts onto paper. "I wanna make a book about all this before it's too late. God's Little Sheep - that's what I'm going to name it. Without hiding anything. My head in a book."
Their dreams, vivid and unsettling, continued to haunt them, blending elements of fantasy and reality into a tapestry of confusion and fear. "I keep having dreams of Makima," Alex confessed, their voice tinged with a mix of fascination and dread. "This dream was crazy."