Galactic Log 1.1 – Rho Tiarmstrong

Hello, darkness. We meet again.

My eyes are wide open as I gaze at nothingness. I’m looking through the wall and into the oblivion. Staring at the ceiling, it’s completely pitch-black and yet I don’t seem to mind. There’s a slight feeling of peace. A calm, fleeting glimmer of hopelessness.

Time seems to standstill for me. I’m lost in my own rambling thoughts, which gives way to serenity, despite the decrepit state of my surroundings. The air smells stale, like spoiled milk and wet dog. None of the windows have been opened since I arrived.

I’ve gotten so accustomed to this lifestyle: the dim lighting, the pile of dishes in the sink, the overflowing trash bins, and the foul odors. It doesn’t bother me anymore. I stopped caring about my hygiene. Haven’t showered or bathed once, since I only want to die.

Hoping to rot away slowly, my reddish hair is nothing but a rat’s nest. It’s knotted and super curly. My hair resembles plant vines that have been growing out, all over the bed. I’m somewhere else––my mind and body are not fully present in this world.

I’m always half in and half out. Never sticking around for too long, I’m gone before they know it. In an instant. In a burst of speed. In a flash. I know when the going gets tough I can suddenly make myself disappear, whenever I want. I’ll fade into time and space itself while the old me vanishes forever.

(To be continued…)

Copyrighted © 2017 by W.D. Lady

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