Quarantine With A Demon

22k cases. My mind can't wrap around the logic of how this is happening. I believe everyone is as fed up as I am. It's a frustration that's brimming and even the lid is flying off, the whole being about to explode. It's an invisible itch that appears to be crawling along every inch of the skin. The question that haunts me, driving me up the wall to yell at everyone: "how the fuck did we get to this point?" 

I've been like a lunatic. Randomly saying how life is meaningless and making jokes about how stupid everyone is. Fake it till you make it they say. Waiting for someone to inject hope into the wound swollen with pus of despair. I have a great imagination, but it has failed me, because I cannot imagine what could make me happy today or even in the future. 

I love being busy, I don't like my mind. Ever since the lockdown, it has just been a constant inner fight. I can never go to therapy because I'd feel bad for wasting the therapist's time and my parent's money. I found therapy in gym, surrounded by people who like me, are there to be better and stronger. When I'm there, I just forget about all my problems, and just focus on lifting the weights. The sound of metal, the thumbs up we give each other for completing a great set, the quiet understanding that there's no judgements there. I've not been jogging for two months, feeling the breeze comforting me, the sunset reminding me there's new hope everyday. I'm going mad.

I can feel the demon's hands reaching from behind me, its fingers, long and slimy, poking into my skin as it grips my head firmly to look at all the dark places in my mind. The scariest part is, in the reflection, the demon is me and that means, I have no way to run. We are entwined as one, and there's no way for me to win.

I remember my mum used to scold me not to get overly excited or play too much, because it would make me cry at night. I still remember how ridiculous I thought she was, yet I always did cry after a boisterous day, for reasons I couldn't understand at that age. Now I feel that way. I'm just tired and all I can do is curl up on my bed and cry for every reason my over-thinking mind easily throws at me. Nothing interests me anymore.

I'm just all over the place at this point. I don't even remember what started the avalanche. Seasonal flood, seasonal turbulence.