Shallow
#WritcoStoryPrompt45
Write a story based on this famous excerpt from The Night Slowly Came by Kate Chopin:
I am losing my interest in human beings; in the significance of their lives and their actions. Someone has said it is better to study one man than ten books. I want neither books nor men; they make me suffer…
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© osello
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It seems my tears have carved a path down my sollem cheeks, following one tear after another until they drip down the cliff of my jaw.
I don't even know why I'm crying, I have no reason to.
Then again, I have no reason to feel anything. My mind is a blank canvas that hasn't been touched for months. I've given up trying to sort thoughts out.
Any feeling other than numbness is like a knife cutting open peace.
So I sit on my floor, head resting on the edge of my bed. My eyes set on the wall in front of me.
I stare at the same point, a small scratch that has been embedded in the beige paint since I was little.
My mind threatens to go down a rabbit hole of thought but I've mastered the skill of keeping my mind in a blank state.
I am this way because it is easier than having to feel. it is easier than needing to constantly worry about my self image and how people see me. I've been done with people for a while now. Even positive emotions tend to be exhausting.
So I stay where I am. In this shallow state of mind, treading so I don't sink but not leaving to escape.
Write a story based on this famous excerpt from The Night Slowly Came by Kate Chopin:
I am losing my interest in human beings; in the significance of their lives and their actions. Someone has said it is better to study one man than ten books. I want neither books nor men; they make me suffer…
___
© osello
___
It seems my tears have carved a path down my sollem cheeks, following one tear after another until they drip down the cliff of my jaw.
I don't even know why I'm crying, I have no reason to.
Then again, I have no reason to feel anything. My mind is a blank canvas that hasn't been touched for months. I've given up trying to sort thoughts out.
Any feeling other than numbness is like a knife cutting open peace.
So I sit on my floor, head resting on the edge of my bed. My eyes set on the wall in front of me.
I stare at the same point, a small scratch that has been embedded in the beige paint since I was little.
My mind threatens to go down a rabbit hole of thought but I've mastered the skill of keeping my mind in a blank state.
I am this way because it is easier than having to feel. it is easier than needing to constantly worry about my self image and how people see me. I've been done with people for a while now. Even positive emotions tend to be exhausting.
So I stay where I am. In this shallow state of mind, treading so I don't sink but not leaving to escape.