The Window

Even looking out the window isn’t the same any more. I used be a part of the world, now I just watch it through a vacant consciousness. I have a name, but I do not associate with it by choice any more; it leads me the messy and sometimes dangerous conclusions. For the sake of my story, I will sacrifice my pride and use it once again. Anouk. I wish I could say I no longer feared that it, and most of the time I don’t. Yet every so often that name strikes me down, and the more I fight the more it breaks me. Finally when I can’t take it anymore I give in; When it finally leave the parts that make up my consciousness are missing or dead, and those left alive are wounded and delicate. An epic battle all while sitting in a chair looking out the window; the world going on as if nothing happened.