Entendre

17.7: Endgame

Sighing.

I am very tired right now. So exasperated. Also, have I mentioned how hungry I am? It's so tiring in this human flesh. I'll close my eyes, except I'm not Sleeping Beauty. I'm not Briar Rose, I'm not that pretty. The truth isn't pretty also. Like me. So raw and dead and hollow. Have I mentioned 'hard-on-the-eyes'? If there was one wish I could have right now, it would probably be for me to turn back in time and tell myself not to even press that icon to cry out.

You know the thing about crying out? There's always this hope that you'll find an answer after the distress. But it's not always like that. Real life is harder than the words they're expressed with. Sometimes you can't even explain it at all and that makes it even more manic.

If there was an answer, someone would have it. Even great metaphors or big words cannot express life. Life right now for me is just making me sick in the stomach. Tomorrow I'll have to ride this train wreck and pretend to have a life that I don't have.

I'm just another empty vessel in a crowd of souls still unaware that they're like me because of the emotions shielding them from their proper train of thought. Happiness is bleak right now and this rain doesn't have a rainbow. What, it's not like the leprechauns are secretly keeping a prism at the end, right?

I feel very childish right now. I'm giggling in the kind of sense that I'm feeling as flat as the chopping board that I'm placing my wrist in right now. Hm. Maybe I should have thought this through. It's usually enough to scare myself away but right now feeling fear was the last thing in my head.

The cat's meow is the last thing to ring in my head before the butcher's knife falls over my lifeline. Howling, that meow became the flat line echoing all over in replacement of the piercing scream that was supposed to prove that I was fighting for this lifetime.

It wasn't there anymore.