Someone pushed the play button in my head and Mad World by Gary Jules started playing inside my skull.
I’m sitting on the subway and the guy standing next to me has a semi-fresh scar on his wrist; of course, I start debating if it was an accident when I notice some already white scars behind and next to the new one, reading ‘KILL ME’. It’s a sign. Today is going to be a deadly day.
Work is hectic, I only avoid a mental breakdown because I’m too busy having one. Waiting is a loaded gun pointed to my face; I pace up and down on the corridor when I see it, a small yellow star shaped sticker with a smiley face. I’m gonna live through this day.
Die, live. Die, live. Live, die, live. Live die. Die, die. In and out, one thing tells me good news, the other bad ones.
It’s 18:18, I make a wish. I keep it a secret so it may come true. It’s not a huge thing, not even as selfish as I usually am. Hope lingers and turns bitter as a voice in my head whispers: you don’t deserve it.
I light a cigarette. I was quitting it when the stressful days came and suddenly I’m smoking a pack in two days. Grey smoke fills the room, I open a window, but it’s too bright outside. Solution, putting on shaded glasses black like the hole where my soul should be.
I have to go. A ten minutes break is over, went by feeling like a whole week and it’s only Thursday. There is more work to be done and there’s more apathy to experience. In the meantime I keep looking for guidance.
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