Miray

There is a quiet resignation with the way my mind is declining right now. When I sit at my desk, I repeat the same song I have been repeating for the last 13 days, and I just stare at the overgrowing clutter. Like inevitable moss that grows in dark and neglected places, covering almost every corner. My mind goes black and empty. I don't exist.

Sometimes when I get up to wash my face, and I see the drops of water trickling down the faucet, my mind halts and stares uselessly at it. I do laundry, and for some moments, my limbs don't move. All I can notice are the wrinkles on the clothes. My eyes blur out of context. I am not here.

The gears in my brain are all rusty. They rustle and clank with each movement. After each chore, each action... It's as if I need to sit down somewhere and rewind my brain with a key, so it can function again. My favorite meal is no longer my favorite meal, but a bunch of rocks I chew for fuel. I am not alive.

When I woke up today, I struggled to get up. Part of me wished to move my bed into a casket and seal it. I wouldn’t mind sleeping forever until my breath gave up.

But only so many of the things I am wishful of could happen in a lifetime.

So I played some music on my phone and pretended to slow dance through my house. I imagined the clutter around my house was an aesthetic from a Ghibli movie. The mundane tasks were not so mundane and were part of a beautiful scene that is only beautiful in movies.

I came to realize sometimes I need to look at the bare bones of my life and call it art. It is a respite to my tired soul. It is important to call this gold even if it wouldn’t be worth a dime.

I pretended to be in love with life.

The problem is, I am always watching. I am staring through the glass window, yet I never step outside. Everything must be an illusion.

You see, I don't trust my own words anymore. I act and pretend I am doing the better thing.

 "I am healing," I say proudly, 

"I am so much better than I was before," but I feel the straining behind weight every word,

 "I am working on myself," and I can feel my skin crack beneath the mask.