05 february 2021
i can't sleep.
kept up by the fact that if i let myself fall out of my window things would just
vanish
disappear
dematerialise
collapse
end
what keeps me here?
the fact that some things bring me solace. but there's no true reason and that
means i'm still ever so fragile and vulnerable. because most people wouldn't
think twice about it. they'd just keep living their lives. but i still have
trouble grasping the fact that if i'm gone....it's gone. like there's no
afterlife, there's no 0th-person-perspective, no cinematic shot, no epilogue
and i don't see black either, i don't see anything but nothing keeps me from
seeing, i just don't see, or feel.
i don't think. i think that's what i'm looking for sometimes, to stop thinking. but thinking is my only strength in my world, and it'll be my downfall but i have to live with it.
i can't write.