I walk down the street, the same street as always.
With every new day, when all else fails, it remains unchanged. For years it has endured as my constant, but not now, not today.
Today something – something – is wrong.
I don’t know what is going on. All around me people are going about their days as if nothing is happening. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe nothing is happening.
No – no – something is wrong.
Could it be that they just can’t feel it? That must be it, after all how could they; none of this means anything to them.
But what does it mean to me? I don’t know.
I can feel a reaction inside of me. A sensation that is familiar and yet never before experienced. It is a feeling I can’t define.
It is growing impossible to ignore.
I walk faster, childishly hoping to leave it behind, a hope that fades a little more with each footstep.
What started this, why today?
Suddenly it’s behind me and I’m running.
The world is crashing all around me, crumbling as I run down the street, the same street as always – unrecognizable.
There are no people, just a disintegrating world and that which I am running from.
I run until there is nothing tangible left. The relentless street I have known, now gone.
The indefinable feeling is now in front of me.
It was only a matter of time before they caught up to me, my sins against human nature.
All the things I have thrashed against for as long as I remember, finally consuming me.
My own personal purgatory realized.
That’s how I picture it will happen, the day I realize I have become the complete embodiment of what I fear the most. It’s inevitable really, no matter how hard I fight – as with most things in life – it’s only a matter of time. What I have always known will disintegrate in my grasp as I try to hold on tighter, afraid of what is coming. Maybe the earth won’t really come crashing down all around me, but inside me, I’ll feel the world collapse. In the end, I’ll be left standing in darkness, with nothing but a self I never wanted to become.
I know who I am and the kind of person I want to be, but I’m terrified, terrified of losing that all. I’m scared that one day, I’ll become just another person that exists, but isn’t really trying to live. That I will go through my days, not seeing how beautiful the world is. I’m scared that nothing will get me excited, nothing will make me happy. I’m scared that I’ll become so cold and jaded, that I will lose every ounce of compassion that I have.
I’m scared that I’ll become just another person that has stopped caring.