[ The more you close in on yourself, the more you realise you're not even sure where you are anymore.
This room you're in -- this house you're in. It's nothing more than a replica, some kind of illusion. You knew that, of course, but it somehow feels more poignant now suddenly.
You don't belong in the sun. It just doesn't feel right. It's too bright out there for someone who shunned happiness in the simple things when you still had the chance.
You realise you really are alone. It's like when you first came in and sat in the kotatsu -- the television is silent. There's nobody sitting next to you. You feel a very cold draft coming from your front door, whose window pane is ominously black now, no light coming in. It draws you towards it, like a visiting wraith.
...
Well, there isn't much point in sitting around, is there? ]
[ he knew it was all fake to begin with, but somehow it still stings to realize he really was alone for all of this.
there's nothing left for him here, except for the thoughts and questions that were asked.
"will you ever take it?"
...he hadn't really realized that there was still a desperation left in him that does, in fact, want to. but maybe it's too late.
he gets up from the kotatsu and he starts to move, following the draft from the door. it's freezing still, physically and internally, but there's no point staying here when it's just a reminder of the lack of change. so. he'll open the door to step back out. ]
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This room you're in -- this house you're in. It's nothing more than a replica, some kind of illusion. You knew that, of course, but it somehow feels more poignant now suddenly.
You don't belong in the sun. It just doesn't feel right. It's too bright out there for someone who shunned happiness in the simple things when you still had the chance.
You realise you really are alone. It's like when you first came in and sat in the kotatsu -- the television is silent. There's nobody sitting next to you. You feel a very cold draft coming from your front door, whose window pane is ominously black now, no light coming in. It draws you towards it, like a visiting wraith.
...
Well, there isn't much point in sitting around, is there? ]
no subject
there's nothing left for him here, except for the thoughts and questions that were asked.
"will you ever take it?"
...he hadn't really realized that there was still a desperation left in him that does, in fact, want to. but maybe it's too late.
he gets up from the kotatsu and he starts to move, following the draft from the door. it's freezing still, physically and internally, but there's no point staying here when it's just a reminder of the lack of change. so. he'll open the door to step back out. ]
no subject