Sunday, 2 September 2012

Under the bell jar

Again I feel a hand stretching out with its cold, slimy fingers touching my neck and choking me, making me nauseous and unable to breathe. I heave a sigh. Listening to the clock ticking, listening to time, listening to all the seconds going away from me and listening to the sound of myself coming closer to death. 
Listening to the envy rising up inside my body, about to erupt like a volcano. 
I can't hear my heartbeats. 
Thinking of the future scares me. I picture myself wandering about, finding no job and failing completely, as I have always feared. I picture my dream shattered, and my life no more than a sequence of hopes and disillusionments. Up till now my life has been mediocre, I haven't done anything worthwhile, haven't created anything remarkable, haven't achieved anything to be proud of. 
In my ears I can hear a voice enunciating "See it now? See it now, megalomaniac?" 
Yes, I do. I murmur to myself, and close my eyes.