The voice, voices

 

Legoshi B Indigo

Do we start from the beginning or do we just exists at some point of the lives we are supposed to live in like it's the most precious thing we do own this rotten world?

How come we feel the need to survive in this hell on earth and keep up with the will to live this life? Enjoy the moments, knowing that we are already slowly dying. Taking the final breaths at any hour that has been given to us. Blessed to us. They say this life is blessed to us, given. We should love it. But who is we? Not me. Not you. Not them. Who? 

It's like long nails that crawls my insides out with the questions on if this life is worth of living.

Someone screams.

That's not a scream..it sounds weird..

_____

I squint my eyes. Rub my eyes. 

Where am I? What date it is and how much the clock is showing the time to be? 

Oh dear Lord. Did it happen again?

I hear the horns of a car once again. The noise was a car. And I'm middle of the road. Oh. 

I spell "sorry" with my lips to the driver but he chooses to show me middle finger instead and yells "asshole" when drives past me after I have crossed the road.

It doesn't happen as often anymore. But sometimes my mind does go into this place where my own memories keeps me like a prisoner. Then it feels like there is this "other me" who takes control and handles the situation while I'm trapped inside and manage to just scream and cry because of the haunting memories that creeps me out.

I keep walking until I get back home. I make sure that the door is locked and I'm finally alone.

I rub my forehead while walking to the living room. Living room. What a name. Yet this is a place where I feel the less alive. I stare at the black TV for a while before deciding not to put it on.

I sit down on the floor before I lay on the carbet and stare the roof. The details of the wooden pieces of it. Count how many they needed to get it done before it actually started to look like that.

*bling*

It's my phone. I know it is. And I know that I should open it and look what have I gotten. But I don't feel like it.

Oh. And now somehow, like automatically, the phone is on my hands and I am checking the message. Oh God.

I roll my eyes. By myself. To myself.

Do I get up and go to that coffee shop I got invited to, or do I just stay here?