There is a rhythm. I can hear the low tune being hummed by nature around me. It was supposed to be soothing my nerves, only it didn’t. They say going out to open may kill your melancholy. It wasn’t working for me. I can feel the weight on me increasing with each passing second. I feel invisible hands choking me. A single tear escapes my eye skillfully and begins tracing its way down my cheek to my neck. I touch the wetness on my cheek with a numb finger. The sensation that surrounds me is not foreign. I have experienced it before. It ensnares me when I am close to drowning, the panic that fills my chest, the inability to breathe, and the bulge of my eyes and the shoot of my pulse. It’s all very familiar but not welcomed, at all. The difference is that there is no water surrounding me, creating those chaotic sensations. It’s the fresh air.

I smile the smile that proclaims my helplessness; the smile that chills my blood, for the smile was not planned. It had come naturally, just like the oppressive weight on me. I look away to find the glittering city lights. Even from that distance, I can sense the buzz of the city. It is not helping me either. Those glittering city lights cast a veil of despair on me as dark as murky night. It was actually from the people I had run away, the people who worked hard to keep their ugliness under the mask of beauty and perfection.

What to do now? Where to look? If only I could find answers to these questions. If only there was someone who would drag me away from this state of mayhem and confusion. If only I was strong enough to do so myself. If only, these words start pounding inside my head, creating an undesired din.

“You could drink.”

My heart proposes. Sure I would get away from the reality for a good period of time. But what happens when I regain consciousness? Wouldn’t the reality hit me harder than ever then? It would. So basically is there no escape to these sensations at all? I was running in spirals, finding no end to it. I have reached the point from where I had started my train of thoughts.

“You could sleep.”

My heart attempts to relieve me once more. I shake my head as soon as the idea sinks in. There would be no use. The disoriented brain of mine struggles to keep itself awake all the time. Sleeping would reduce it to nothing. I smile, this time the smile is bitter. The smile that proclaims my surrender, I whisper,

“I give up.”

There is no escape. I get it now. Would you be kinder with me now when I have accepted your true power? I ask, more like request, those sensations that simply intensify in response.