(A very short piece I wrote because it was stuck in my head and I needed to get it out.. I feel like I should explain myself, but I won’t. )

Isn’t it funny how things turn out? How grey the world becomes in an instant, a painting of which used to hold so many vibrant colours and so much worth just washed away by one small twitching hand. A mistake.. many small mistakes, lead into a plague of catastrophe and hopelessness.

Maybe I’m one of lucky ones. I had a chance to avoid it all, avoid this feeling, it was difficult to avoid in the first place, but I guess my point is that I was once hopeful and seemed to have knowledge that everything would somehow turn out okay.  Maybe it was the pressure that destroyed me, maybe it was the guilt. If I could go back in time I would tell myself to never stop dreaming, to never stop hoping, to never stop working maybe then I would’ve never looked to the sides, to where I could fall and lose my balance. Just one turned pinky toe is all you need to send you tumbling and falling into the abyss.

Did I dive or did I trip? Was I bored of balancing? Not realising what I ever had, never understanding the pain of falling since it was something I never knew?

Well now I know.

I know the coldness under my feet. I know the wind that pushes and pulls me with agonising force. I know the rain that floats in  icy breath all around me. I know the pain in my stomach. I know I’m so done, so tired of falling.