You stumble forward, blinded by doubt, with no sense of where you’re headed. Your hands and knees still hurt from the fall before, when you tripped and rolled down from that place, above. The place that contains this adult life, work grind and responsibilities, proper interactions and all these normal people. And nothing else. That place now feels so distant and out of reach.
Down here is lonely, but you are not alone: not too far away in the distance you can feel your old demons lurking, quietly waiting, their unblinking eyes fixed on you. The feel of unease keeps you moving, heading elsewhere, anywhere. But you are so tired, and have probably been holding your breath for one moment too long. Thus you feel around, looking for some emotions left on you: maybe some memories of past eagerness, shells of proud times that you could mix up with tremblings and questions, in hope they might sprout into some beauty that you could feed on. You know full well, however, that this won’t be enough; that you won’t be able to have this without a dash of pain.
With clenched teeth, bracing for it, you hold up your hands and wait for Sorrow to descend upon your unfinished creation. It anxiously devours and tears apart, with sharp teeth and claws. As it does so, Sorrow glares back at you through red tearful eyes, and asks why. Why do you keep feeding it, and why it won’t ever be free from you. You stare back silently, heartbroken, not knowing what to say and hating yourself for it. Finally you pick up the remains, tattered and soaked up in bitterness, press them against your chest and make the most out of it. Feeling a little bit better, for a little while longer.
And on you continue your aimless wandering, heading elsewhere, nowhere. Lest you sink in, and suffocate.