My therapist said to write down all the good things I did in a day. Today, I woke up. I guess that's a start. The date is 13/32/??????
I don't know what year it is anymore, no one does, no one even knows what year it was. All we know is the month and day, which never change, the older ones, the ones who were here before it happened and have been bothering to keep track of time, say it should have been October. There are some festivities, though they are only empty, posturing. No one really gets excited about them. It's just a way to keep distracted. Distracted from their life. We're all the same, deep down. We just want out. Most of us became bored at around the same time, 11:61 PM, December 31st. Suddenly, we all thought "I know". At that exact moment there was really no more intrigue in the world, no more reason to live. At that moment everyone knew everything, at that moment everyone stopped, sat down, and cried. No, they did not all do this simultaneously, and yet they did. It has been a month after that moment for years. I don't know why I'm explaining all this, everyone knows. Time passed just past where it should have on all counts, and then it stopped passing. No one wants anything. No one wants to live. A few years later, on that very same date, 13/32/???? People started trying to act. act like they didn't know. act like everything was back to the way it used to be.
It is 13/32/????? Now. Three "days" later. this time I actually got out of bed. I had the will to try today. I mustered my mental strength and walked to the bathroom. Yet again, I was able to kill myself in every possible way, but I still lived, none of them doing anything. as usual. Not a record. Not at all. I don't improve. No one does. I don't care enough to go to work. They don't care enough to fire me. Or enough to stop the automatic pay. Not that it matters. Stores don't ask for money. "Angels" run the stores. They don't need money. They do sometimes torture us as payment. To us, I mean, for providing them with companionship. Our human torture methods aren't really enough to feel anything anymore. This was only supposed to last 1000 years, but 1000 years will never pass. It's the same day.
It's the same day again. We both know the date, and the time down to the second, and the millisecond, and micro nano whatever, it's just past what it should be. We're just past where we should be.
I didn't get up today, I just slept. That seems to be the best course of action. Not that it matters. I want to die. We all do. We can't.
I miss pondering theories. I have all the answers now. There is a god, there is an Easter bunny, and there is a queen of England. Well… there was. She was lost in the rapture. I was born after that though. I was born just before Utopia. If Utopia is a way to describe it. Some would say Dystopia. I wouldn't. Utopia means no place. I think we are in the most no-place place of all. I wonder if this is hell. No... I don't. I know that this is not. This is not hell, but it is far, far worse. the date is still/the/same.