if it were successful on previous occasion, albeit momentarily, it was bound to be again, relieving at least.
before i even did it, my head was swarming with the pleasant thoughts of how things become post that. thoughts came to head, thoughts formed patterns, patterns turned into visions, visions found words attached to them..before i could word them, i realised that i was already tripping on the other me. the ME who was compromising. the ME who had accepted the Noise and could not even rebel.
the depersonalisation was so intense, no, it was on the verge of tearing itself apart from its seams.every passing moment was in the anticipation of a defense from the ordeal. every alternate moment was the normalisation of emotions.
but i had to do it. the water was overflowing out of the bucket. it was like a cigarette i had to smoke even though the delay had made me forget about it completely. i had to do it..
i thought but i did not.
the bucket was blue and opaque..
the bloody bucket was blue..