It Ends In Absurdity

Chapter 1

'Ceea ce nu trăim la timp nu mai trăim niciodată.' -Octavian Paler

Do you sometimes dream of dying? Do you dream of death? Do you think about it? Does it help? Every time I get close to doing it in my dreams, I wake up. It's an instinctual response. You cannot override that inborn survival instinct. It's always there. In this particular dream I was walking in the woods. The moon was hanging in the starlit sky. I could hear the cracks of leaves and branches under my feet. Each step it's last. Each step taking me farther from the person I had been. The person, as if there was a person in me. Nonsense. Spewing futile remarks, my observations about myself are unnecessary. Let me just say that I was determined. Oh, this dream was not like any other. This was the dream I had awaited for so long. The time had come. I was standing in front of a tree and a rope with a noose at it's end was swaying from one side to the other. It was just the both of us. In front of me dangled futility, eternal darkness was right there, all I had to do is reach for it. It was a dream of course. Sometimes I'd imagine what it would look like for other people, my death I mean. For instance, my parents, my one or two friends, how devastated would they be? How cruel would life seem at that point? Having someone you raised, you loved and cared for, someone who grew up and someone you've lost. No accident, you weren't killed, you did it yourself. They would look at that corpse of yours. Tears rolling down their cheeks, conflicted as to why have you done it. Was it them? Was this their fault? What did they do wrong? Where did it all go so wrong? It wasn't them of course, it was you, you made the decision. But they would try to find ways to take some of the blame upon themselves. They would just look at your corpse laying there. The corpse of a person who once spoke back to them, now just laying still. There was this eerie silence when they looked at you. Your face pale, yet somehow they could see the contentment and emptiness it portrayed.

It was all at an arm's length. It wasn't a rational decision, yet it is the decision that made most sense to you. You don't remember adjusting the noose, you didn't feel much. You just took a look around. You watched the moon for what would be the last time and dropped. You were gasping for air, suspended as you were, dangling. As you resisted and fought it the more you would feel the noose growing tighter and squeezing the last drops of air you had in you.

Just as I was about to witness the grand finale I woke up, my t-shirt drenched in sweat. It was 6 A.M. I took the t-shirt off and went to the bathroom to rinse my face with some cold water. Staring at myself in the mirror mindlessly for a second. I reached my hand around my neck, there was nothing. It felt so real.

I was tired, sometimes I'd wonder how the fuck was I still going through with this chaos. It was certain there wasn't much left in store for me. I didn't anticipate the future, I looked for every opportunity to abandon the thought of a future. My obsession with death was way too uncanny. It was on my mind every single day, for years now, every day I'd think about it. I couldn't go on and enjoy life like others did. The thought of death created me and it emptied me of life. It was always present in the back of my mind. For so many years now, it felt like that is the only thing that made sense.