Faking suicide

Yes, it’s a beautiful day, so I heard the weatherman say. Hollywoodesque landscapes and white, shiny smiles. People that wave and wish you well. So kind, the human warmth. Still I believe this is hell. They talk and I listen, but even though the words are coming out, there’s nothing for me to say. See you later, whenever. I go for a walk in the city, it used to fade distress away – its secret gardens no longer thrill me. Dark rooms are also a hiding place – fantasy projected while you put real life on pause. The movies are all so shallow now and I pretend not to notice I’ve seen it somewhere else. Books are one’s wisest friends. But reading needs focused eyes and mine are drowning… After some failed attempts, I get back to the beginning. Which today might just be that last page.

“It’s just a fond farewell to a friend”. Because I’ve realized I’m nobody’s baby.

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