Headless

The pace of days is fast. I am barely holding all the pieces together; they have broken into such small pieces, I feel them almost falling off through my fingers. But I tighten the grip, telling myself, "One day at a time, Nimna."

How can one make wrong decisions with such enthusiasm, I have no idea. But here I am, dangling from a cliff of enthusiastically-made bad decisions. Every ounce of my energy goes into holding on to this one thing that supports me right now, trying not to fall off and die. Although, it gets increasingly tempting. It is easy to let go, to loosen this grip, to fall. The primitive urge for survival and that god-forsaken curiosity wouldn't let me take the easy way out. I want to know what will happen.

In this in-between space, I look over my shoulder a lot, and I cannot believe how mind-numbingly stupid I have been. I called that being rebellious and fighting for the freedom of life, but those were just hollow headings I've bestowed upon shitty chapters, written with over-confidence, stupidity, and sheer recklessness. Enjoying the fruits of them now. Fuck! how the fuck I ended up here? The future, from the past, was so bright. How did I end up in such dark depths, drowning?

It feels like I've been sleepwalking for years, knocking over things, breaking some, and completely missing others. I've walked past opportunities, aimlessly chasing a whiff of some hope that I could not shake off. What on earth was that? What did I give everything up for? I was following the voice that said "leave," and I left, from the North to the West and now to the South. It said "leave" again, so I left. Who knew rock bottom had a secret basement?

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