. . .
I had a breakdown at 2:54 PM.
But long before actually
physically having the breakdown I knew I was going to have it.
I knew the signs, I knew
the triggers and at some point, I think I knew my biggest trigger is actually
“me finding new triggers”.
Like me exploring the
cascade waves of the ocean through all the storm and lightning , but I figured
as time passed by that the storm has either fallen into a void and now has no
sound at all or the constant raging winds that were cold, carrying spikes of
frozen tears of rain have pierced my ears to finally make me deaf.
Maybe I am still sailing ,
exploring the waters for I may have grown a secret liking for a
thunderstorm that either went quiet for me and giving up its very nature of being, or chose to make me deaf so that I endure its very nature of being.
Either way, it remains
to be the most unfortunate love story no one will know about, except for me.
Either way, it just remains a story.
I am still exploring for something I believe would solve all my problems, but unintentionally willing to get drawn to things that only trigger those problems. Like a hungry wolf that lurks around with saliva dripping from between its jaws; not tongue, literal jaws ; ready to pounce on, eat out and shred anything , any form of love and any sign of life visible to it .
If I may, I really want you to know that my day started with waking up in a pool of my own blood. And trust me this time, I literally mean every word of that sentence because that's exactly how I felt waking up in blood-stained sheets . I hopped out of bed abruptly which I regretted doing when I saw my blood dripping through my clothes on the floor.
A perfect pale white floor painted with the red. Irony.
After spending an hour
to make my room look less of a murder scene it appeared like, I sank in my bed
once again and chose to not get up, not at all.
I laid on my bed for
hours, laid through people calling me , through people texting me , through
people trying to have their better normal progress in lives. I could really
feel time at that moment, and it is one of the best worst things ever. You
don’t actually feel your time slowing down , you feel everything else, everyone
else fast forwarding to better things while you are trying to catch up; which
is even more difficult to do, when you are not trying to catch up at all. Only
if there was a bug in this program , that would let me have my time in a
non-relative way , but turns out the programming is quite efficient and I
don’t get to stop and take rest, so I am being dragged by the parenthesis that
encapsulates my time period so that I don’t fall out of the bounds, into ranges
I am not supposed to be in.
I am not going to make it gloomier by the details of the trigger of today’s episode because it is not the “ holding in till you pop open the bottle and the Dom Pérignon splashes out” effect. It’s rather a “ putting the cork in again, shaking it vigorously and trying to predict the splash ” effect. It’s not ‘THE’ effect , it’s ‘A’ effect. It’s not conventional, its piteous. It’s not accidental, it’s intentional walking on a glass field barefoot when you know it’s glass, only because it amuses you.
It’s not a butterfly
effect ; it’s determinism.
So, I tried something
different this time given the liberty I had, to be my own company, I recorded
myself having that breakdown today. Maybe I just wanted to figure out do I
really look beautiful when I cry (just kidding)
It started with me fighting the urge to stop recording then and there when I first saw the state of my appearance. It occurred to me then, at that moment, that it was the first time I saw myself since morning, which is a surprise for someone like me who has a small mirror kept beside her all the time to constantly check her scars and blemishes and acne and other sort of impurities which people regard as "human things". Like after every 5 mins. So, for me not seeing myself for pretty good 5-6 hours and then sort of shoving all those “human things” altogether freaked me out.
I was a mess. I stared with crying my heart out and ended with laughing my ass off. The tears and screams were so real while the soft smiles and the shine in my eyes when I laughed was so lively. It totally fascinated me how onerous it was to find out which one was real? Or which one was fake?
Did you see what I did
there? It's the questions; it's IN the questions I ask
myself!
When I watched it over
and over again, I never found the cries or tears or quivering of my lips or
shaking of my body heart breaking, it was my smiles. That looked so hurtfully
familiar to me ,it broke my heart into glass grains. I haven’t used the word
“sad” anywhere except for here because sadness in not what I feel , it’s the
inability to feel happiness that irritates me.
So, should you start pretending for the sake of it? Should you take steps back and return to the shore? Did facing your blues and waves and thunderstorm turn out to be a bad decision ? Are you a fool to leave your harbor and go sailing when you can very well see a thunderstorm? A thunderstorm that is meant to stay, and you choose to step into it with eyes wide open. Does that make you more of a fool or more of man?
The boundaries, as usual, are blurred.
But what if you are the one who waited for the storm? What if it wasn’t a choice but a desire all along , long before when you were losing your grounds to droughts and heat so you wished for rains that could bring floods, for storms loud enough to deafen you? What if you are the one who waited to cause it and now since you are the reason for the cause, you feel terrible abandoning a thing you created? What if you waited for heat when your ice age was freezing you to death? What if after that you have hated heat so much and so long that you find the waves drowning you bearable? What if you are secretly waiting for a land that you know you are going to hate soon too?
What if it’s a cycle of
escaping a tragedy by waiting to create a new tragedy, and then waiting again till you find a way to escape it too ?
So let me rephrase it , I waited till 2:54 PM to have a breakdown.
. . .
“But I'm a fire and I’ll keep your brittle
heart warm
If your cascade, ocean wave blues come”
_t.s.
✨🤝
ReplyDelete