One Thing To Another (Renewed)

27/05/2018 - "Birds"

I've been spending a lot of time here lately. I managed to get up as far as the window to open it today. I let in some fresh air to go against the doom and gloom-y environment in here. I feel lonely. My stomach is definitely empty, but I refuse to let it rumble. I like it as it is. Every second I spend here makes me feel more comfortable. I hate being awake. I miss the odd explosions of colour which took place during the times I dreamt. I miss the continuous black, the smokey skies and the dripping of rain. I miss sleeping. If I could I wouldn't wake up from my sleep. Not being dead, just being non-awake. I wouldn't ever end myself, no, that's too selfish, but if anything I do not feel blessed that I'm alive. The best way to put it is, I wish I were never created. I can hear the birds chirping from the now open window. Are the birds glad to be alive? Or do they live in misery, looking at the gradually withering world? Do they wake up after hours of sleep and wish they hadn't? Do they look at what human beings have done, how disastrous their existance is, and tremble in horror? Or do they just focus on themselves, and go about their day? On the fact that their pitch must be perfect in order to sing? These are thoughts I only get while I'm here, alone, with just my bedsheets to embrace me.