Broken Memories

five: not alone?

 

It's been quite.

No new movie scenes, no more acts to this physical play.

You know, I never realized how much I crave those little bursts of, well, life.

I can't do anything on my own. I just feel slow and stuck, like I'm drowning in honey. Yet nothing's sweet about this.

I need another  sight, a new feeling, sound, taste, even just for a second. These little blessings of sensations have turned against me. It's also a curse.

I keep waiting and waiting. Counting to 1000 and back down, thinking of synonyms and antonyms to random words, re-picturing the landscape of a previous scene because I can't think of my own.

You can only do those things so many times before you start to get restless. To panic.

What if that last one was it? The last thing I'll ever experienced was that sting in my eyes and heaviness in my heart?

I don't want that to happen.

God. I wish I was never shown anything. It makes the nothingness that I am so disappointing. So bland. It's driving me insane.

That is if I'm even alive and have a mind to lose. I still don't know what's happening, and why I'm stuck in this web of fragmented memories of whoever they belong to

Is this hell? It can't be Heaven. Maybe some place between.

Please, give me anything.

I bet if I had a body, this burning feeling would be in the eyes or throat. I'm so frustrated I would be crying.

But instead it is everywhere. This feeling of sadness and pain and desperation is the only thing here.

The only thing I have.

And then I feel like I'm sofficating. Like I can't run away fast enough from nothing.

How do you fight Nothing? There is literally nothing here but my thoughts (that are barely in tact as it is) and this terrible sensation.

I just want this all to end.

I want to give up.

I want

I want

I

"-declining rapidly...
Not... we can do...
I'm sorry."

"Don't  give  up  just  yet."

What the hell was that?

It was murky, I could barley hear. I know I wasn't in a dream or memory because I was still very much in this sticky prison.

But it was definitely something. Someone. How'd they know I was overwhelmed by nothing? That I was on the verge of something terrible?

I felt calmer...like knowing that there is something out there that knows me. I felt warm all over, like a huge breath has exhaled from with me and taking all of my panic with it.

So, I'm not alone. Okay, but the real question is,

Will this turn out to be worse than myself?