Bedlam: A state of extreme confusion and disorder
Walking along the beach, staring into the ocean, and waiting for something to happen never felt so… Filled with anxiety. Or so I thought. Maybe it doesn’t, and maybe I’m blowing it out of proportion, just like the threats from the east, maybe I’m just giving it too much of my time. Or maybe I’m right, maybe I’m just a heralding soothsayer. Maybe I was born into a family of gypsies and psychics, and maybe I can see the future, maybe I know how the system works and maybe I can manipulate it to my will. But that hasn’t happened yet. Not along this beach, not inside that ocean, and not while nothing is happening. No matter where I walk, no matter how long I walk, and no matter how many times I decide to walk, I don’t think I can ever find something in this life that will gratify this feeling in me. As the oceans rise in, the ebb and flow fills my ears and I feel the salt on my tongue, I feel it shrivelling me into a ball of indignation. Then, everything around me starts closing in, collapsing into a vacuum that is inescapable, into a vacuum that holds no apologies. No matter what I feel, no matter where I am, I will always wish to find my way to the ocean, to let everything about it drag me into a space all of my own. It feels light, like I’m floating among the clouds and yet at the same time I think I might feel like I’m falling from the clouds. Gravity dragging me lower and lower towards the Earth until nothing is left of me, until I am no longer human. But all of that is a dream, and nothing of my walk on the beach is real. Nothing of anything I think of everything in the world will ever amount to anything. And so I solemnly go back to sleep.