Fragments of a Decaying Mind (Entry II)
Entry II — The Hollow Hours The nights blend into each other now. I can’t tell where one ends and the next begins. Time stretches thin, like it’s about to rip, and I drift somewhere in between. Sleep swears it won’t take me, not fully. Instead I float in half-dreams, where blurred faces melt, voices scatter, darkness hums… and everything slips away before I can reach out and grasp it. The silence is heavy. Louder, even. My chest feels hollow, my head heavier with every blink, every passing hour. I try to remember what used to make me feel alive. Joy, fear, even simple rest. Was it real? Is it still possible? Those things feel like they belonged to someone else. Someone I can barely recall. The same ache in my skull, the same sense that little pieces of me are being stolen away in the dark. So I sink into the hours. Small. Curled in on myself. And I wonder how far down it goes… and if there’s anything left of me when I finally reach the bottom. --- Maybe it was a time jump all along. ...