I had the idea at a sleepover with my friends.
Surrounded by the undesired thoughts, thick as fog… You’re unable to brush them away, but for a second you can forget their existence.
But swirls of agony always grasp the mind, demanding full attention. And as the hazy fingers of unbearable matter clings to the brain, it suddenly solidifies and becomes something that is impossible to ignore.
Because the truth can’t be shrugged off as we hope. The dispersed data has to link into information that is plain to see and we are forced to know that it is true. No matter how hard we try to hide under blankets of lies, squeezing our eyes shut, we only find that the mind has occupied a continuous notifying of what is actually real.
As much as I wanted to be ignorant, I am forever tormented, and the more I want to forget, the clearer the pain blazes.
I am infected by the truth.
I have no cure.
But I’ll never die. I’ll only wake up to realise, every day that she is...
And that’s worse than death.