Breathe

And just like that, the world has become a jail. Our houses the cells we live in. Life came to a pause so abruptly and I can still feel my thoughts racing as fast as ever, trapped in this quiet and seemingly peaceful empty room.

Isolation. By force we have to face ourselves, our non eternal nature crafted by our dispensible bodies succeptible to damage by the smallest of creatures, unseen by the naked eye, not even alive, they are not.

I never realised the walls of my room were made of mirror. Inside them, I face myself. The life I crafted; is it one I cherish or one I'd rather hide from?

My home, a place of security has come to symbolise uncertainty and fear. Control, the fake idea of it, has crumbled to nothingness, a construct so carefully crafted that right now seems at least laughable.

I don't know where the future will take us. Such a powerful realisation that I've spent all my living moments running from. Did you also used to follow your little imaginative crafted path, step by step? Did you also disguise it as stability? Prisoner. I was a prisoner of myself and only at the face of physical captivity have I managed to shed light to where the real isolation lies.

I don't know where the future will take us. Every fear I have ever faced of letting go seems pointless, every time I decided the risk wasn't worth it. Now, pushed off the cliff edge, with only faith that a parachute will save us, I think I will suffocate, or maybe, just maybe, I will breathe harder than ever before.

I don't know where the future will take us. Sobering reality. Shocking I would say. But really, did I ever know? Did you?