HOME | DD

Description
After so long, the dust never seems to clear. The clouds never part. Never again is the singing of the birds something magical, instead it hurts. The darkest abyss cannot seem to end, no matter how far you fall. You're promised a day with your coat in the wind, leading you to a land unknown. Those who do not understand look at you, like spectators at a zoo. Their eyes pierce into your skin, you try to grit your teeth to bear the pain. "Wake up," they say, "Come, come enjoy the sun". But once you get outside, the sky is dark. Year after year, tear after tear, it never ends. A silver lining only serves to drag the cloud down. The road never ends to the promised land. You feel alone, nobody to follow you. Friends ask what's wrong. You can't find the energy to speak. Ever so dearly you wish they'd grab your hand and pull you out of the pit. Nobody hears your words. You scream, begging to be brought into the light. Only then do the voices in the shadows call you. Falling to your knees, then onto your side. You wish to crawl into the only position that reminds you of a time before the pain, a time before conscious thought existed.

You remember their name. The one who helped toss you back in the hole as soon as you were almost out. You remember the ones you left behind. Your body shakes, so cold... You give up calling to the ones you once trusted. The shadows are your family now, your friends, your lover. What do they ask of you? Do they ask for your blood, your sweat, tears? Do they ask of you the one thing you're trying to keep ahold of? Your sanity? Whatever remains of it. Your life belongs to them now. Nobody will break the chains. Life, death, it all feels the same. One just requires less struggling. You can see the sky falling. Nobody listens as you run around trying to fight the inevitable. Instead they laugh, call you weak. You begin to believe it. The train has been set. The boat has left the docks.

"What happened to me?" You ask. Every night it's the same dream. Surrounded by everything you lost. One sleepless night leads to more. Afraid of being trapped with your own head. The waves push you down, letting you up only enough to breathe just before you expire. The world around you becomes only darker shades of what it used to be. It's so tasteless. Contact can never be pleasant or painful, it's always both. Life constantly feels like a barrage of blows to the head. Darkness is your savior while light is your goal.

Some die. The pain of it all never ends. The darkness wins. Being a survivor is not much better. Surviving only leaves you with more pain. A darker hole to crawl out of. More eyes watching you from above, judging you, never offering to throw a rope. That kills even more. Attempt after attempt to give into the darkness leads to more and more shame. "You gave up. It's our fault, isn't it? You're selfish, you're a monster! Maybe you should have died!" They choke you with pills, trying to change who you are. They think they're helping when they're only making you feel more alone. Life becomes a living hell. Live for the living, that's your command. You're here for them, not you.

Then it happens. Most survivors become a husk, blankly staring back at the world. All thought is gone. Your body is alive but you, you are dead.

Description
After so long, the dust never seems to clear. The clouds never part. Never again is the singing of the birds something magical, instead it hurts. The darkest abyss cannot seem to end, no matter how far you fall. You're promised a day with your coat in the wind, leading you to a land unknown. Those who do not understand look at you, like spectators at a zoo. Their eyes pierce into your skin, you try to grit your teeth to bear the pain. "Wake up," they say, "Come, come enjoy the sun". But once you get outside, the sky is dark. Year after year, tear after tear, it never ends. A silver lining only serves to drag the cloud down. The road never ends to the promised land. You feel alone, nobody to follow you. Friends ask what's wrong. You can't find the energy to speak. Ever so dearly you wish they'd grab your hand and pull you out of the pit. Nobody hears your words. You scream, begging to be brought into the light. Only then do the voices in the shadows call you. Falling to your knees, then onto your side. You wish to crawl into the only position that reminds you of a time before the pain, a time before conscious thought existed.

You remember their name. The one who helped toss you back in the hole as soon as you were almost out. You remember the ones you left behind. Your body shakes, so cold... You give up calling to the ones you once trusted. The shadows are your family now, your friends, your lover. What do they ask of you? Do they ask for your blood, your sweat, tears? Do they ask of you the one thing you're trying to keep ahold of? Your sanity? Whatever remains of it. Your life belongs to them now. Nobody will break the chains. Life, death, it all feels the same. One just requires less struggling. You can see the sky falling. Nobody listens as you run around trying to fight the inevitable. Instead they laugh, call you weak. You begin to believe it. The train has been set. The boat has left the docks.

"What happened to me?" You ask. Every night it's the same dream. Surrounded by everything you lost. One sleepless night leads to more. Afraid of being trapped with your own head. The waves push you down, letting you up only enough to breathe just before you expire. The world around you becomes only darker shades of what it used to be. It's so tasteless. Contact can never be pleasant or painful, it's always both. Life constantly feels like a barrage of blows to the head. Darkness is your savior while light is your goal.

Some die. The pain of it all never ends. The darkness wins. Being a survivor is not much better. Surviving only leaves you with more pain. A darker hole to crawl out of. More eyes watching you from above, judging you, never offering to throw a rope. That kills even more. Attempt after attempt to give into the darkness leads to more and more shame. "You gave up. It's our fault, isn't it? You're selfish, you're a monster! Maybe you should have died!" They choke you with pills, trying to change who you are. They think they're helping when they're only making you feel more alone. Life becomes a living hell. Live for the living, that's your command. You're here for them, not you.

Then it happens. Most survivors become a husk, blankly staring back at the world. All thought is gone. Your body is alive but you, you are dead.