1) it feels a little bit like a summer day when the sky is completely clear and you feel how your body is turning the sunlight into stardust to feed your galactical bones, and then it’s dark with the darkest of clouds covering your sun and before you know it heavy drops are hitting your temple and your tears are no longer the only things soaking your cheeks and now everything is different, heavy, but also kind of clean, and you want it to stay just as much as you want it to go away. it might start again. you don’t know when. and it usually comes when you least expect it.
2) it feels a little bit like being at the place you feel safe at, and all of a sudden you’re thrown out of it and you just want to run away. and you run and run but that feeling of unacceptance stays with you and holds you by the hand and you realize you are trapped. you have everywhere to go but you always take it with you, you always take yourself with you. so the truth is, you have nowhere to go.
3) it feels a little bit like being on a boat, smoothly sailing across the endless blueness of the water below you and the sky above you with the wind in your sails and having a direction, when your anchor just sinks in the water disattached from your boat and that’s when the storm is closing on you and you feel as if Poseidon has turned against you and he’s decided not to oversee the destruction of every nut and bolt from your safe haven, and there’s nothing you can do but let it swing you from left to right, from right to left, hoping it will stop because you’re nauseous and in panic, not because you’re afraid you’ll die, no you’re not afraid of death, you’re afraid that you’re going to live like that for the rest of the days.
4) it feels a little bit like a hangover, not the easy kind, but the cork-high-and-bottle-deep kind, it feels like the hangover that you get when you were careless enough to think that it can drown whatever is suffocating you from the inside, the kind you can only wait out, with a heavy head and a body that aches and fuzziness, yes fuzziness, because your brain can’t focus as it’s flooded from all the thoughts that now invade it, and the light hurts your eyes and all music is too loud and no, you don’t want to see people, as much as you want someone to save you.
5) it feels a little bit like a first heartbreak because the world seems the same but also infinitely different and you can’t remember how you used to do things, how you made sense of washing the dishes and how you used to do your laundry and how living made sense, suddenly the world is a scary place, a strange place and you’re afraid, you’re alone, lonely and afraid.
6) it feels like being in a room with no doors and no windows, but being told that there is a way out and you try, you do, you try to figure it out, except that you’re too sad and too tired and what’s the point really, the sunshine would just burn your skin and people are callous and mean and maybe you’d rather stay here. maybe. but then you check the walls for secret seams, again, and maybe there’s something you missed. maybe. and it’s the constant maybe, the inability to want, to desire, to just know. it’s the maybe that’s the end of things.