Hardships

prewritten

Silence is a burden, he thought. The world around him so still, so quiet infact that his ears were aching. Ah yes, the deafening sound of nothingness, when one is left with nothing but oneself. It's kind of ironic, really. That what we expect people to be interested in when we utter, is infact the same stuff that bores ourselves to death when theres no one around to victimize. Looking around,
only the tiled white and black shadows on the wall bouncing off the reflections on some dunno-what angles from the lamp behind are visible. Physics.

Silence, black and white. Not a sound from the outside world though some of the windows were popped open. Could feel the breeze but not hear it, know the world outside is filled with colours but fail to see it.

Locked up. Being locked up sure must be a picnic compared to this, solitary imprisonment however would be a different matter.
You know how they always say stripping a man from his freedom will always break him down. Fuck that, it's not that poetic.
In simple terms, man needs to impose himself on the outside world. So much infact that he is lead to believe that its his right and not a privelage. Not sure how that's different from being free, but its different alright.

Man has got some fucking nerve on him, I'll say.

Think happy thoughts, remember faces dear to your heart, it's not being away, it' just being. Period. It's not like he's lonely or anything, just alone.

Can't really place the feeling. It's definitely not in his head, that's for sure. Certain that this has nothing to do with being unable to cope with the current circumstances or environment, it most certainly does not relate. Piece of cake.

Been through a lot worse, infact willing to go through even worst. Just a way of life. Knowing that facing the world out there is nothing, facing himself all alone was the problem. One proud egoistical motherfucker. None of that 'mirror mirror on the wall' crap. Not that it would apply in this darkness anyway. Damned lucky he would if he could differentiate between a mirror and a door.

Always thought that stuff like this is what people moan about and cry over, shows how much he really knew.

Breath, rythmic. Pulse, normal. Stress-free-mind. Facts that reassure that this is not about what he is 'thinking', nor 'feeling'. It's just occuring.

Heartache. Visualizing the muscle dubbed the heart pumping blood normally, yet it's as if some of the arteries were tightened. Squeezed perhaps. Fuck shedding tears; crying blood is what breaks a man down.

Seems like there is more to us than just thinking with our heads and feeling with our bodies after all, the differentiation between those 2 is one thing; the seperation from "I" from both is a whole different ball game.