It’s dark outside but it’s not the end of the day. It’s dark outside but it’s only the morning. Or at least you think it’s morning. You aren’t sure. You aren’t sure of anything anymore really. Uncertainty defines your existence these days.
It’s dark outside and it’s apparently the morning. You just accept this without questioning. You stopped questioning things a long time ago. You just accept things at first thought. You stopped questioning, you stopped fighting a long time ago. Curiosity doesn’t roam these walls anymore.
It’s dark outside and you should begin your day. You should get up, get dressed and begin the futile routine of beginning your day. You should model the accepted behavior of everyone else. You should just get up, drag your feet across the floor and wear the façade of normalcy like you’ve always done. You know the act firsthand. You are well versed in what normal appears to be. Your performance has been Oscar-worthy. You should continue the charade of “I’m okay” and “I’m fine” even though your soul is in utter decay.
A reasonable person might say well why is your soul in decay. A reasonable person might say find the source of your misery and address it. A reasonable person might say that this predicament is solvable. A reasonable person might say that is all preventable.
You were once a reasonable person too. You were once the poster child of rationality. You looked at each uncertainty and rectified it with a decisive solution. Problems have origins and the origins were where the answers could be found. You once believed this, but then the darkness came in.
There was no reasonable origin to this darkness. There was no reasonable cause to pinpoint. There was no situational factor or series of factors that could be attributed to its onset. One day it was sunny. One day life had purpose. One day you knew what joy was. One day you possessed such resilience but then it happened. You blinked and there was a switch. It was just an irrational transition. The light departed and you just woke up one day surrounded by dimness.
The sun is about to come but your blinds obscure its entry. The sun is too blinding now. You don’t recognize it anymore nor do you seek it. Your alarm goes off again and you hit snooze. You should get up but you won’t. The charade is too exhausting. People are too tiring. Your will has reached its limit. So you retreat, pull your covers over your head and crawl back into the darkness and all of its vacancy.