When you wonder where the years went, and then you realize how old you sound when you say it out loud and you’re only 23. Then you realize, “Wow, I’m 23. Where have I been? Where am I going? What have I done?” And then you realize, “I’ve been nowhere, gone in circles, and done nothing.”
It sounds like a tiny voice inside your head screaming so softly that all you can feel is the vibrations rattling your skull but you’re not sure what the words are. It’s a little like standing right next to the speaker at a concert. You can feel it deep in your soul but you can’t make it out. Is it even really screaming? Are there even any words at all?
You begin to question everything around you. Is any of this real? Am I really even here or is this some twisted version of The Matrix? Suddenly you think, “Oh my god! What if I’m actually in a coma and this isn’t even life, but a coma dream?” You pinch yourself before you realize that how would you know if it would even wake you up? You’ve never been in a coma before. You wouldn’t. So maybe this isn’t life. Maybe it’s a lie and you just made it up in coma land. Maybe this is a bad coma dream world that you’ve created and you didn’t even know it. How would you know if it wasn’t?
Then a song comes on and it brings you a memory but before you can fully enjoy the memory you wonder if it ever even happened or if your mind is just fucking with you, creating a life that never existed. Would you be able to tell if you were closer to life, or closer to death? Does death even exist, or did your brain make that up too? Is anything real? You wouldn’t know.
You start to look at everything around you differently, looking for inconsistencies that may lie just beyond your eye sight. You look in the mirror every day for some flicker of change that wasn’t there before but you can’t remember if it was there yesterday. Was there ten minutes ago? You look at your walls, your bed, your hair and wonder if they were there before and maybe you just didn’t notice. You wake up and look for signs of change, but you can’t remember if there are any.
You start to chew over your words because now they don’t sound right in your mouth. Everything looks the same, sounds the same but it’s not and you can’t tell why. Everyday molds into another and it’s all the same except it’s not and you can’t explain how. Your words back up on your tongue and won’t release from your lips but you say them anyway just to see how they feel. Are they different? Is today different? You can’t tell, but maybe.
Your scared. Are you real? Is anything real? How can you tell if your alive or dead or in a coma? Is this a dream? If you jumped in front of that moving bus would you die? Or would it bring you out of the coma? Or would you get back up and walk away? Would you be fine again? Would anything change? You wouldn’t know.
Is this normal? Does anyone around you think these things? Are you even thinking these things right now? Or is that just the coma talking? Are you so much more? Or so much less? Who, what can you trust? Is anything real? Is anything normal? Are we all bags of flesh strung up in some old warehouse waiting to rot? Are we flowers stuck beneath the dirt waiting to bloom? Would we ever know?
Where have the years gone? Where have I been? Where have I gone? What have I done? Would I ever know?