Amour's Void Gallery

I get tired, you know... Literally of everything. Of the sheer volume of emotions, of the effort it takes just to exist in this world, of the constant noise around me that I can’t seem to tune out. ... I’m tired of communication, of social interaction, of loneliness, of reading, drawing, playing games, wasting time, onions, cooking, work, studying... I’m tired of not being able to focus on one thing for very long. I’m tired of constantly having to look for extra motivation just to be a little more effective than a stool. I’m tired of letters that are always slipping away, of other people’s emotions, of not understanding how to interact with people. I’m tired of food, of... I think you get the point. I’m literally tired of everything.

It would seem that the pills should help at least a little, but no! Not again! Once again, I’m taking them in a higher dose, but I get nothing but utter, permanent exhaustion. And, honestly?..

...

Sometimes I start to doubt that my condition has anything to do with real problems. Sometimes I catch myself thinking that all of this will never leave me, because it doesn’t really exist. It’s just “an attempt to get attention,” “laziness,” “a reluctance to make an effort,” and so on. But at the end of the day, I have only one thing, and its name is...

...

It caught me off guard again. The mirror had once more become my enemy. For a couple of seconds, catching a glimpse of my reflection out of the corner of my eye, I froze. Or rather, I went stiff. You know that paralysing sense of awkwardness when you accidentally make eye contact with a random person on the street? That’s roughly what I felt. Except it was a mirror, my own reflection, not a random person on the street. But at first I thought it was someone else, and only after a moment’s confusion did the realisation of the reflection sink in.

It’s scary. It’s just... Bloody scary.

...

I just realized I was sitting on the bed, staring blankly at a single spot. It’s been about two hours since I zoned out. I have no idea what this is, but it’s a little unsettling. Plus, it’s cold again.

It feels like I’m getting dumber. Not only do I speak and write awkwardly and clumsily, but I can’t really read properly either. Well, I can, but the text, you know... It just goes right past me? I’m kind of reading, kind of understanding everything, following the plot, but the next moment I suddenly freeze with the question, “Wait, how did you end up here? What’s this grid? Weren’t you driving?..” And this happens every single time. Even rereading a single page a dozen times doesn’t really help. It’s like my brain is starting to shut down, you know. To die off.

...

It’s still shaking. My fingers are trembling so badly that they’re hard to control, and my whole body is incredibly tense. There’s a nasty, metallic taste on my tongue—either blood or something else... It’s so strong that I get the distinct feeling that if I open my mouth, blood will pour out. But no, there’s no blood.

I don’t know. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I should keep doing anything at all. It always feels like I’m doing something wrong, into the void, or just annoying people with my very existence, and I just...

"What's in your backpack?"