In this world dreams don’t come true and continuity is the only constant until the only certainty- Death.
Breathe in to fill your insignificant lungs with empty oxygen. Do it. Travel aimlessly through Time, your coveted jailer. Shackled to Saturn’s swift rings, you might as well enjoy the view.
Well, only if the dark void that existence really is could be called a “view.”
There’s no other remedy, use your imagination. Collect some cues from your environment and interpret them as well as you can. Reality is nothing but the waste product of neural processing.
Begin to worry when your brain realizes that the information that you receive from your surroundings is not realer than the one from within your own mind. In your head both sources are tangled to produce perception. Of course what’s considered “normal,” or “functioning” is when the quantity of processed information from the outside is greater than the one from within.
The problem arises when your psyche adds more than allowed to the mixture. Then, psychosis proliferates within consciousness. You are locked inside the plane that your own mind created. In there the rules change, and what is considered impossible is now happening.
You don’t need food, no water, no sleep. That’s amazing, really. Here you finally have the time to hear nothing but your own voice. The internal monologue that rips you apart.
Inside the void, your shredded remains float violently. The kingdom of physics is far away from here. Like guts in a hurricane, you fade away.
That was the long way of saying I don’t feel real.
*****
Hello, humans. How's life going?
In my case life is good, but I'm depressed. Yes, usually by this time of the year my beloved Holiday Depression© subsides, but due to the fact that life has decided to repeatedly punch me in the face for a while now, it has apparently been elongated. How great. I wrote the text above in a moment when I felt like I was losing myself. Actually, it's been quite long since I wrote this one, but I don't really have the will to do much lately. Proofreading and coding and posting seems so daunting. Yeah, and I'm working on a longer story now, so expect it sometime. Hehe.
By the way, don't worry about me. My disorder is being treated professionally, and honestly, even though my mental state is a disaster, I'm coping. I'm even talking about it, which is a HUGE thing. It sucks, but it's there. I have no other choice than to deal with it bravely, as hard as it may be. I hope that all of you ill nuggets are at peace with your thing, too.
Love,
Nan.
