Z.C

How low do I need to go just to feel something?

Everything feels heavy, I don't even believe that I'm breathing even when my body is clearly doing so. Do I really need to pick myself up and continue surviving? Isn't the bare minimum enough? I'm constantly exhausted, I'm so tired of surviving at all. I'm already rotting, there's no use if I live.

"There is so much to live for", I tried to convince myself. "There are so many things to live through", I told my own heart. "You just need to survive a little longer, then you can finally live just as you wished you could." My inner voice whispered.
          
          But who am I? What am I? For why do I have to be like this? Is it really what I deserve? Is it really worth one life that I call myself mine?
          
          What use do I have surviving in this world when all I see is vivid images of my own corpse? Hanging, bleeding, ran over, sawed, burnt, floating in the water. All those refuse to leave my mind, all those dispel any fantasy I have on finding true happiness. Why do I have to disappoint everyone like this? Why do I have to shame myself as if I am nothing?
          
          Do I even deserve to live as a human? Am I human? Am I really human at heart?

I have been floating, I always feel like I'm floating. Somewhere in the void, a vast space I pretend to be peaceful. The only thing that keeps me anchored is my imagination, yet imagination can only do so much.
          
          Death. When will it come?
          
          Will it be merciful or cruel?
          
          Am I.. going to leave this world so soon?
          
          Of course, I can never know for sure. I am no God, I can't exactly rewrite my fate. And as much as I want to believe it's not true, I'm more than eager to admit that I am powerless.
          
          That is always what I am, no? Lowlife, without a purpose. A girl who is doomed to be consumed by the darkness.

This is torture.

Once again, I am destroying myself— all because I had to act like someone who could be relied on. I should've been more patient, letting everyone play their own roles as I simply watch in the distance. Why did I have to speak? Why did I have to offer myself? Why couldn't I simply stay low, and rely on the others instead?
          
          Why should I act the same way as I did when I wanted to survive?
          
          I don't... want that anymore. I want to live, and to feel. I want to be.. a true human. Someone— who could freely speak without being overly secure about what I have to hide. It's exhausting. I can feel like I'm losing myself again.
          
          How am I supposed to live now?

A new journey would simply lead to a new life. Although I would prefer to flow like the wind, I couldn't simply... be unselfish enough to let go. Attachments are such cruel things, yet I slowly felt myself getting more.. alive, because of them.
          
          When in the end, I know that everything will disappear. They will either be gone, or they would witness of my.. shortcomings.
          
          ..It scares me. Feeling human scares me.

I should be responding, yet I choose to stay silent. I could merely stare- unfeeling towards anything that took place in that very moment. Was it the past or is it the present? All I know is that future seems nonexistent.

Everything feels suffocating. Everything feels empty. Everything feels alone. Everything feels nothing. Everything feels pain. Everything feels sorrow. Everything feels unfamiliar. Everything feels dark.
          
          But the light is there, and all I need is to be patient enough to reach for it. 

Death, have mercy on us.