Now, here, I just move around in this tiny little space, eat
these rotten fruits and age old bread, and then go back to
sleep on the messed up bed.
One of the things credited to keep me alive is my habit of
buying food in bulk. I haven't been eating much lately or
since past 7 months.
This is normal I guess. For a person trapped inside a cabin for
8 long months to feel this urge to puke but nothing comes
out cause there's nothing to be thrown out.
It's like my body is eating itself from inside, I can't shout for
help anymore, I'm just waiting here on the wooden floor, to
die.
I'm not starving, not anymore.
There's no life left inside me anymore. I'm still physically
active but I don't want to use it. Physical and mental pain are
both indistinguishable. Even I don't know what I'm feeling
anymore.
Its numbness and stillness. Extremely quiet surrounding.
Chirping of birds seems aloof.
Should I be trying harder to get out. My mind is going blank.
Maybe it's the unpleasant brew of isolation and self loathing.
I was never an optimistic person. I always hated myself,
hated the world for being so fucked up, hated being born,