Who am I?
What am I?
What am I holding on to?
Nothing is substantial.
Nothing is of any significance,
It’s all an illusion a dream that drowns me deeper and deeper into pain.
Suffocation is what you are left with once you realize its futility and I have burnt out pretty soon, my mind knows better now.
You think you are struggling to live but the fact is you are struggling to die a hundred times instead of once.
You end up dying a hundred deaths every day until you are finally laid out to rest.
This bubble called life is an agony, it’s a big lie told to us over and over again.
All through it, we live with the ‘I’ factor that connects us with nothing but emptiness.
We own nothing, we have nothing to call our own, it’s all a mindset.
The fact is, we are born and we must die.
Death is the ultimate truth and life a beautiful lie.
Remaining in this pit or snapping out of it is a choice you make.
It’s just a snip away and everything can change forever……….
Violet, sat all night near the fireplace at one end of her icy cold study, wearing her best attire, dressed as if she was going to a ball, looking spectacular in her red velvety gown and black ballerina shoes, her golden locks tied into a beautiful bun with ringlets hanging down the sides of her painted up doll face. It was going to be the last scene of her life and she wanted it to end well.
Sunk into the warmth of her luxurious fireside chair, She continued scribbling her thoughts in a diary. A lot of it didn’t make any sense, her mind was cluttered like an unknown forest that harbored weeds and thorny bushes.
She didn’t want to leave anything behind that would be thrown into the trash. “All rejection should end with me” she thought and kept feeding the fire with inked rumbled-up pages of scratched out sentences and gothic drawings of wings, horns, and graves until she was able to eventually write something that seemed to have explained her feelings fairly well.
Violet always found it hard to put her thoughts into words but today was exceptional. Strangely she didn’t require anyone’s approval. This time she knew it tasted good and started to absorb the feeling of soft droplets of emotions penetrating her drought-stricken soul.
It was a tiny bit of Accomplishment, a fraction of contentment in her not so very satisfied life. She sat stunned, It was at an odd moment but it felt good all the same. A half-smile surfaced on her frozen face and for once she smelt the sweet aroma of success in doing something at least, so what if it was in the form of an adieu note. She eagerly hugged it even though it came at the time she had chosen to die.
A speck of hope shined on her dungeon thoughts, its light was far and faint yet she could now see it clearly at the end of the tunnel, and all she had to do was reach out and touch it.
The pen fell from her trembling hand and tears trickled down her slightly crimson cheeks, as she flushed the sleeping pills down the sink and thanked God she didn’t disappoint him for creating her.
How silly she had been she thought, to have underestimated herself. The tiny ray of achievement and the tears of gratitude had helped her to re-germinate the seeds of hope in the soil of her futile life.
© Annadine Charles.