As I lay still atop of my bed in the silence staring up into the crevices of paint in my bedroom ceiling, I hear a faint hum of a train in the distance coming from the window. I just moved here so I’m new to the area and am not used to being around railroads, let alone living right next to one, so this would take some getting used to. As I seep into my thoughts, I delve into the dark edges of them and let them consume me. I imagine being stuck to the rusted, metallic, track, unable to move while the oncoming machine whirrs violently towards me. Maybe that’s unpleasant to some, but oddly therapeutic to me. After all, we can’t avoid the inevitable forever although some people may try.
It’s hard not to think about it. Death. The way it will feel when I take my last gasping breath and close my eyes one last time. Calm. Peaceful. It’s almost as if I long for it to come take me away from this dreadful place that I can’t seem to find a way out of.
If there’s one thing that I’ve come to realize during my time here, it’s that nothing kills a man faster than his own head.
Give a person some silence, a ceiling, their thoughts, and oh boy are they in for some serious damage. It’s almost as if the universe gave us a brain just so we could watch it slowly implode. Why are we here? What’s the point? We’re all broken and confused, searching for answers we won’t ever find.
After you’ve contemplated the inevitable, everything else is just background noise.
Questions and doubts sit in front of you like a giant light-up billboard sign making anything else you walk by practically invisible. How am I supposed to live when I don’t know if I should even be here in the first place?