The Claustrophobia of a Human Being

    

Another drop hit the top of my head. My hands are cold, I cannot feel the tips of my fingers any longer. My feet are stuck in place, wrinkly. I make another move to get up, but I am met again with failure. Crying, I sat myself down again, throwing mindless, furious fists at the damned glass. It won’t break, it won’t, why won’t it? Why am I here in the first place?  Actually, I do know why I’m stuck in this hell, it’s the thing I hear when a drop hits the water, it’s what I see every time I blink. One thing done wrong, an eternity of reviving it. And I tried to make it better, to make myself better, to do only good... God doesn’t forgive.

I don’t really know for how long I have been stuck in the hourglass, maybe a few minutes, maybe a year, a decade. Of course, all of this in terms of real, external time. For me, I do know for how long I’ve been here, how many moments I’ve been a prisoner in a misshapen structure- all of them. The drops have been hitting the top of my head for all the moments that existed and will exist, so maybe for none at all. Ironically, time has no sense in this hourglass. In here, the item shapes the reality. A blasphemy but a truth. The little voice was still calling my name.

C, do you wanna know a secret? No, I’ve told you already, stop asking me. But why, C? Are you afraid that I’ll say something bad? Leave me alone. Are you afraid of me? I can’t do anything to you, I’m dead. Don’t you remember? Shots fired, a thump and a woman screaming, crying. Shots fired, a thump and a woman screaming, crying. Shots fired, a... No, please, stop it. Why? You should be proud. You stopped that little girl from murdering more teddy bears  I didn’t know, I was just a little kid You must be so proud, not many can make their parents strip their morals for someone Shut up and please stop this blood from dripping...why does it fall faster? They put themselves in such great danger when they burred the body of your sweet little sister. Serena’s face flashed before my eyes, confused, with my toy in her arms, then scared, hurt when the bullet hit her chest. 

My tears were bloody too and I somehow know it’s Serena’s. I know what she wants and I’m going to give it to her. I put my head under the blood that now reached my elbows. And stayed. My impulses were telling me to take it out, but I fought it. I was getting dizzier and dizzier, and in a short time I couldn’t see anything but blackness. Oh, sweet relief, but “ for in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause”.

And I felt the hard wood floor beneath me and there was no liquid around me. Am I in heaven? Or is the cruel joke of an Ein Sof?

I raised my head from the grave I put it in and saw a dim light from where I reckon the hourglass was. There was nothing, nothing but the pure despair of billions of moments that I should have lived but never did, the irefulness of the words I have never spoken, the disenchantment of all the feelings I should have felt. Once upon a time, when everything was normal, I used to wish to be dead.  Now when I’m looking directly in its cold, sempiternal eyes, breathing in the air of decomposition, feeling the mucus and rotting meat directly on my skin I want nothing more than to cover myself in lies and ephemeral desires. I wasn’t afraid of not being anymore, but of being everything that I wasn’t.  A memory of who I didn’t become not held by me, but by everyone that ever came in touch with me. That child with whom I made eye contact two years ago will be aware of my death in an oblivious state which can be seen in rocks or fungi. And the child will die with me for, once dead, I cannot remember anything or anyone and they will die in the universe I created around myself.  Everybody will, nobody can escape. But don’t be sad now because we start mourning  and be mourned from the first second we are born.  Our life and death are dictated by others, it is what it is and can do nothing about but grieve and preach every moment we are blessed and cursed with. Blessed be.

I could move. I figured the only place I could go to was where the light was, but I moved backwards. I was walking in a dark abyss and felt like the king of the Emotionally Unbalanced- absolutely wrecked. To say the least to keep my masculinity, my legs were shaking lightly from cold. I tripped over. I tried to rise but I couldn’t, I was kept in place by something I couldn’t see. I looked back to see where the light is, but it vanished, instead I could see that my left foot was trapped inside the eye socket of a bull skull. It doesn’t make any sense, why can I see it if it’s pitch black? The answer was given to me by a loud boom and fire cracking. In front of my face was a group of people, happily chatting with one another, kids and dogs moving between their legs. They were throwing little fireworks everywhere. The snow started to fall, painting an image that would’ve made Charles Dickens shiver from pleasure. I couldn’t lie, it bewitched me as well. I knew that nothing I was seeing was real, I knew I was in a pitiable position and that I couldn’t move (literally), but I couldn’t overlook the pulchritude of a perfect winter night spent togheter with family and close friends.

My vision was starting to shadow til I could see only a glimpse of what was there before. Now I could see only the faces of those who were blind and apathetic. The ground was vibrating underneath me, the only moments I could breathe were filled with thick smoke. My ears felt like they were bleeding, from the fireworks or my heart, I didn’t know. A sharp whistle changed everything. They weren’t fireworks anymore. I tried to move my trembling limbs, but I was stuck in place as before. I saw fire ahead, but there were no screams, only the hissing of the bombs. Where were the people? I tried to remove a branch with my mouth, yet it made no difference. Those people that were here before, I could see their heads still. They seem to chat gleefully, oblivious to the elephant in the room. Oh Gods, if I continue like this my heart is going to explode in my chest. This isn’t real, my guy, it’s a game of those little shits that made this world. But what can be considered real and what not? Ugh, this isn’t the time for this bullshit. Is it gonna hurt me in the world where I’m half dead? No? Then it isn’t real. Although I don’t really know if it’s going to affect my body or not, but I take a shot in the dark and say that it won’t. Probably it will affect me for the time I’m stuck here. I’m still panicking. Damned be the meat suit that obliges into being human.

In no time my shelter was also on fire, but it wasn’t provoked by a bomb, I wasn’t that lucky. My skin was burning and I couldn’t scream. I tried moving, but the only thing I could do was to open my mouth and close it again. It isn’t real, it isn’t. But it hurt so bad and the smell of my own corpse burning was making it worse. Corpse...that was all I was but in short time I won’t be even that. I couldn’t cry and maybe that was the worst thing. A burning branch fell on my back. I could taste Hell and it was the worst thing an aberration like us could feel on the tip of their tongue. I couldn’t die.

I sat there days and nights, burning continuously like a torch. I don’t know for how long I was there, I lost track after a while. I remember vividly the number 43, but that was a long time ago...I think.  But at some point, I felt a little relief in the shoulders and was able to rise. The heads weren’t there anymore. Nothing was there. My body was as good as ever, no scar or burn on it. I was almost sure it was a dream, but I couldn’t believe that. The outside world could manipulate your way of thinking, but your consciousness will always present your truth perfectly suited for you. I moved around, looking for the light, finding it. This time I’ll follow the orders. As you always should do. I frowned. Someone wants to play Big Brother and I’m crazy enough to be Winston.