What am I doing? I am quietly bearing my time out. I have nothing left to do. No words to say. No thoughts to think. My mind is a place void of matter. Mind over matter, they say. There is no matter, no mind left.
I remember the days I used to find thoughts while watching the grass grow. Something as mundane as the crumpled paper on the floor enticed within me a desire to think. I used to long for minutes that would allow me to think. My brain craved for some solitude that would help me organize my thoughts.
But now? Now, I have all the time in the world. I am lying on a white bed in an excessively clean ward. And I am devoid of thoughts.
I meet people everyday. I talk to them. Most are nice to me. Some are coerced by their disease into apathy. But I can empathize. If I was going through their life at that age, I would probably be worse. It’s not fair you know. They don’t deserve it. They should be worrying about which prom dress to wear, not which round pill to take.
But life never made that promise, did it? If I could, I would give the rest of my days to them. They probably have a million thoughts when I have none. What life is worth living if it fails to think? No, they should think. They should worry about petty things. They should fall in love. They should wait to wear a white dress and walk down the aisle. They should spend sleepless nights taking care of their infants. They should wipe the tear as they send their children of to college. I would give my breaths for their days. I don’t mind that.
