I wake abruptly, my breath jagged and heart racing, my mouth stale, and I know that’s it. I’m Awake. The more I want to be oblivious, the less I get to be. The light won’t let me. I take off what I wish to be my shroud and go to have my drug.
The window is my drug of choice, just like any other drug. The sun is getting low; the day is beginning. Another night of thoughts awaits me. I listen to the silence. I’ve realised that you can learn from it. It is a quantity and dimension all on its own. It talks to me, I hear it. Silence brings back everything. The lashes feel fresher than ever. Nobody wants that, maybe that’s why people try to block the silence.
I hear the daily, insignificant squabbles. Unforgiveness denies the possibility of moving forward and leaves them in the possibility of what was, leaving them be, in their trauma and relinquishing the chance to escape beyond the pain. The evening session of swimming classes has begun. I am confused why people would want to learn this if they ever want to drown, their wretched instincts would save them. Pain’s like water. It finds a way to push through any seal. There’s no way to stop it. You have to let yourself sink in it, and the learn to navigate it.
The shrill ambulance sirens in the distance pierce my ears. They must be going to collect another death. It is so much easier to look at death than it is to look at pain. Death is irrevocable, and grief will lessen in time, pain is too often relentless and irreversible. I think of the people who’ve lost a loved one, which is like the loss of a part of oneself; an arm or a leg. The pain is so intense that it is physical, and once that reduces, you know of Pain.
I always find one human trait refreshing. The ignorance of the pain caused and the blaming of the pain suffered. I often wonder why I am not like them, why I don’t have this trait. The pain of not knowing what to do is outweighed by the realization of what I’d done. I have walked through enough hell, and I don’t want any other human to take a single step there. My sole purpose is to co-exist with the pain and not share it with anyone, but I know I am not capable enough to do it. If you want to live a life without pain, you have to become a corpse.
Life is such unutterable hell, solely because it is sometimes beautiful. If we could be miserable all the time, life would be much simpler. One could plod through existence without having to think about happiness. Can you imagine how peaceful and united such a world would be?
The sound of the evening prayers reaches my ears. The people, praying that they get this or that, and a few blaming God. I feel sorry for God; he’s blamed for all suffering in the world. It’s like praising the devil for allowing any good to happen. I see my favourite person, Tom, taking his daily walk. I don’t know what his real name is, I’ve never had a conversation with him, but I know him. I can see his pain, see it in the way he takes one step after another, and I understand what it costs him to hide all of it. I like him because he has lost hope. Grief is an amputation, but the hope is incurable haemophilia: you bleed until you die.
The sense of unhappiness is easier to convey than anything else. You see, everything is doubted, except pain. Pain, once felt, becomes our whole being, becomes our definition, right until we are free from it. Happiness annihilates us; we lose our identity.