Life washes over me, around me. Flowing as a multicolored swirl. I stand within this wash of color, teeming with life. Yet I am apart from it. Separated, segregated. Allowed to watch as it passes by, yet unable to feel the emotions. Joy escapes my touch. Pain a deep dark memory.
life moves on. Am I a part of it? Or a mere voyer on the outside, privy to watch others live. Time slows to a crawl, senses numb, the environ spinning around me. A bit of conversation, a noise from over there. Everyday objects become distant obstacles.
Life pulses around me. I reach out my hand, yet is it my hand? I cannot feel, I cannot grasp life. It races in minute dust tracts, ever faster, ever spinning out of reach. The void surrounds, envelopes my senses.
Everything seems grey, there yet not there, here yet not here. Slowed by some beating of a song not heard. Each movement precise, yet seems to not accomplish its intended action.
I close my eyes. Will life stop if I do? Will closing my mind stop the inevitable? Images flash on the dark screen of my life. Bits of things left not remembered. Opening my eyes seems impossible, heavy, leadded lids laughing at my command. No they say. life such as yours should not be seen.
A smell, a sound, soon I find myself where I began. The room so ordinary around me. Nothing has changed but the hands on the clock, ticking away life moments. I turn around, and my body responds, no hint of it's stubborn disobedience. People. People around me. Carrying on. Moving through their lives.
Someone calls out to me, reaches out to me. I am torn from my world of dark reflection. Life has gone on.
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