Showering on a Sunday Morning

Showering on a Sunday Morning
A blog about reasons to live

Eighteen hours ago I was crying inside the shower. It was midnight and my room is full of reeking stuff. i am intolerant of lazy, boring people so i took a midnight shower to distract my dismal state.

I cried for no reason. I ask myself over and over again, why?

i thought i was having again one of my nervous breakdowns... But i wasn't sure. And i remembered everything, so clear. My head split into two. I am in a terrible state of oblivion.

I feared that i am having another depression attacks.

i couldn't shake the possibility that this could be my last hour inside the shower. Or my last moment in this life. And that anytime after this i could jump from my dormitory veranda and kill myself head-on with the sidewalk. It could that out there, on the fog, the cold gaze of a stray cat could comfort me. And that the humidity of conscience would condensed, there. outside of everything.

"you are more stronger that you think, Adrian." A voice talked to me.

"I couldn't take the shit-stuff anymore!" Tears bellowed on my cheeks, and every moment is unclear, uncertain. I shut my eyes and wailed silently so that no one could hear me. Silence became unbearable.

"You could do this. Get out. You have a life out there." The voice continued.

"is there?" Everything stopped.