Sinking in the sea of crisis, human-made, situational or self-induced. We aren't looking for solutions anymore. We aren't wasting time sulking. We are straight-up pushing it all to the deepest, darkest, rarely visited corners of our heads. After all, living in denial still counts for living, contrary to facing the feelings that leave you lifeless. We are eating, drinking, sleeping off or sleeping with the crisis. Pretending to be as unbothered while denying the fact that it burns like a gin and hurts like a bitch. Faking, hoping to make it. Skating through life while the fire within simmers only to erupt when least expected.
The joy of roaming around in an empty house in a robe with a glass of wine, The comfort of eating your favourite meal in a public space with your AirPods on, The joy of watching a movie and not getting prompted every minute, The comfort of not having to talk to anyone after a long-long day of work, The subtle joy and comfort in knowing there isn't anyone for you to depend upon. If you shatter into a thousand pieces, no one is going to pick any fraction of it. I am now best friends with the void that scared the shit out of me. Chills run through my body when I spare a mere thought of how comfortable I have gotten in my own company. I don't know what or which particular experience it is that cut right through me. But whatever or whoever did it, they did me a favour. After it all, you are all you got.