Över Isen

There's nothing for you here.

The day beats me slowly to a pulp. Too much silence, I wade around in the mountains of debris I leave around the apartment to cloud my vision. I  consider drowning myself in the bottles on the top shelf but it seems like a further waste of a being already falling apart on her own, so why bother. Various truths drift across the inside of my eyelids and they knock the air straight out of me. You only have this one life, and yet you seem hellbent on wasting it. What was once, somehow, a quirky series of events has turned into a legitimate mental illness, and you see the years spiral out of control in mediocrity. Was this what you fought so hard to uphold? What this what you agreed to abandon all the other paths to reach?

The day is unforgivingly long outside your window, and you have to persevere to outlast it. But life is not a game of who can be stubborn the longest.

It occurs to you that you have no idea what life is, at all.