Member-only story
Lost in Translation
The Silence of My Pen
In the quiet corners of my heart, a storm brews. I can’t discern the root of my anguish anymore. Is it the tightness that’s slowly suffocating my spirit? The anger that makes my fingers tremble? Or the silence that has taken me hostage, making a home within me?
The headache that once was a mere nuisance has transformed into a persistent whistle, a sound so familiar that I’ve forgotten what life was like without its shrill tone. My breaths, once rapid and full of life, have grown weary, slowing down as if hinting at an impending end. And even in the face of my own demise, I find myself lost. I’ve imagined it countless times, played out every scenario in my mind, but between one failure and the next, even the script of my own ending seems destined to falter.
I won’t just fade away. Despite it all, I’ll continue to fight, confronting this decaying life with all its rotten corners and sticky mires. The very thought of the end will etch a permanent smile on my face. A smile that will eventually consume all my dwellings, even those that herald the end.
Where is this life you speak of? Where are the years that pass without truly touching me? Where have my youth, my innocence, and my silence gone? I’m lost amidst these attributes, my identity slipping away. I’ve wandered the labyrinths of life until the…
