Tsunami

Sunday, September 9, 2012, 10:04 PM


Original work from Pixiv removed by artist.




There's this numb part of me that's swallowing me whole.
I can't keep quiet.


It's very scary to think that one day I won't be breathing anymore.
It's also very relieving.

I had a dream recently. A very vivid dream, one in colour and sound and specks of HD technicolour that blinded and amazed me.

A tsunami hit, I can't remember where I was or even who I was with, but they told me to hold my breath. My world tilted and then cold water, and warm sun, and then a deafening silence. I opened my eyes to see a world of blue and white, and then I fell under again. I was drowning, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't hold my breath for much longer.

Then I woke up.

Gasping and scared.

I felt like I fell into the ocean again.


It's crippling. It's suffocating.
It's darkness and fear and coldness.
It's a pocket of air, a pocket of warmth,
and a heaviness resembling false security sitting on your chest like a lifeline.

It's waking up in the middle of the night, fearing for your life.
It's falling asleep in the middle of the day, forgetting your life.
It's breaking everything and anything around you.
It's wanting everything and anything.

I just want to stop.
I just want to sleep.

God, it seems so easy.
But that's what makes it harder.

Am I okay? I don't know. I don't know how I am, I never do, and what the fuck do I do.