dying eyes

         there is a horrible nausea i feel the moment i wake up. there is gnawing anxious terror in my guts and my head throbs. i blow my nose, and i feel momentary relief. i make some coffee on the stovetop, and i feel momentary relief. i do yoga and stretching, i work out, i masturbate and stare into the opaque slime on my shirt, and i feel momentary relief. never anything more. it always comes back, and so i spend maybe an hour or so each and every morning sitting on the bathroom floor while the shower runs. I actually don't even shower anymore, i only let the water run and i sit outside of it on the cold tile floor absorbed by my phone screen. i live a thousand lives everyday in my head during that hour or so when i feel that i can get away with running the water. when i know nobody will disturb me. i gaze into the obsidian tablet and i scroll. i look at images that make me feel happy, that make me feel at peace, that make me feel like i have any idea what i want from life. i look at pictures that make my cock throb but i try not to touch it, i try to stay in control. my mind has become so scrambled and so dopamine sick that i cant concentrate on many things for very long. after a while i begin to hear ringing in my ears as the torrent of water slams ceaselessly into the hollow floor. i get up and i stop the water. i exit the bathroom a normal young man and no one is the wiser. some days i go to work, and some i go to school. i take my dog out and i give the impression that people know the person who they speak to when our eyes meet.
         the subway has such power when it arrives at the station. the screeching and the sudden gust of air that you always anticipate but never comes when you think it will. that calling, that unwelcome desire to hop off the platform and face it as the coming crescendo arrives and somehow everything feels so quiet and still as the steel siding whips past and everybody freezes as if humbled by the tin serpent. as i enter the train and sit down on the rancid red fabric i go through scenarios in my head. if im suddenly struck from behind and beaten to death, if that same urge possesses me and strangle a fellow citizen to the ground and beat on their head until pulp sticks to my broken useless fist. if the girl across from me, staring and locking eyes with me every so often will walk over to me, and drop her leggings, and let me eat her pussy out until she cums right there on the filthy floor of the subway while everybody has to watch to the ambiance of scraping metal and the ravings of crack addled invalids. when i reach my stop and climb with tired legs out of the sewers i feel as though i've escaped plato's cave. the cool autumn sunlight forces its way into my eyes and gentle rain blankets me and for a moment there is no more of this ugly world around me. it is the same every week. until one day it isnt. i drag myself up and out of the station and it is an eerily quiet day. the sun is too low for this time, and the clouds move too quickly. a massive great potoo bird is standing in front of me and i'm in its shadow and i am terrified. our eyes are fixed on each others. it is so still and so silent. its bulbous, horrible eyes won't leave me alone. finally it begins to stir. its gaping mouth begins to open, and its trying to say something, the bird wants to tell me something. i hate it so much. i cant possibly imagine what it is about to say and still i cover my ears as though i'm shielding myself from something i already know. i shut my eyes, and when they open im back on the subway. i've only gone a couple of stops beyond my station and i decide to walk back to campus.
         i will never understand those who can put their all into schooling. maybe i really am completely worthless but i cannot muster the urge to put any effort in my education. i haven't been able to ever, actually, and i realize now that there is probably something wrong with me. i have history class today, france from the 1600's to 1800's. i sit next to my best friend in that class, timothy. he's fat and of central american descent from what i can tell. "i cant believe this gay bitch can talk about this boring shit for three hours straight every week." something about the deadpan way timothy says things always brings a smile to my face. "i know and im failing too, theyre gonna put me on academic probation if i fail a single course this year, and its going to be this one. a big waste of every wednesday morning for the last eight weeks." timothy grinned. "is it though?" he gestured over to the girl entering the lecture hall to our left. i didn't know her name but her body was perfect. she had straight brown hair that she wore to her sweet smelling, pale shoulders. her nose was large and somewhat crooked if you looked closely, but she wore it well beneath her dead green eyes. everyday no matter the weather she had a tiny shirt on more akin to a bra, and those leggings that frill out at the ankles. i didn't even try to be subtle anymore, at this point in the semester, and i glared at her fat ass undulating beneath her pants the whole way from the door to her seat two rows in front of us. at that moment with every fibre of my being i wished that i could swap that chair with my face. "you're actually retarded if you think either of us are gonna get with her so just keep staring."
         me and timothy often went to study at a cafe down the street after class on wednesdays. he would always order some absurdly calorie dense and horrifically sweet abomination of a drink, and i would get the same black coffee. i would deride him for his awful diet and he would mock my 'edgy facade'. "You ever have strange dreams?" timothy chortled. "every dream is strange, retard. a better question would be do you ever have normal dreams." i rolled my eyes and tried not to laugh and get off topic myself. "seriously though, have you ever like, passed out and had a really fucked up dream that felt like it meant something, and you really couldn't shake that feeling even hours after waking up?" timothy shrugged. "why?" "i was on the subway this morning, and i don't even remember falling asleep but, i started dreaming. I was leaving the subway station and the sky was like a burning orange. kind of the way it gets at sunset but this was almost scary. the clouds were moving fast too, like really fucking fast across the sky. i could see it as i climbed the steps out of the subway and i could feel the hairs on my arms start standing up. so i finally leave the station and right there in front of me is this giant fucking bird. scariest thing ive ever seen in my life, a great potoo i think, with its head kind of cocked to one side. it was huge for a bird too. i don't actually know how big those things are in real life but this one was towering over me and it just didnt feel right. i was so fucking scared, and it just kept getting more intense. it felt like a shepard tone, my anxiety, like it was just getting closer and closer to some kind of climax that would never come. and the fucking thing started to talk. i know it was about to say something to me but just as it opened its mouth i woke up and i was on the train again. ive had bad dreams but never like this, i cant get that fucking image out of my head." timothy was quiet for a little bit. "back home those birds are a symbol of chastity. their feathers are supposed to protect you from being seduced. thats about all i can think of and i dont have a clue who the fuck would try to seduce you though." he could barely hold back his laughter. after nearly spilling his drink and banging on the table i got up and went to the bathroom. talking about that vision made me feel sick, and i stole away into the back of the small cafe.
         i had trouble sleeping that night. no bad dreams. my dog woke me up at seven in the morning.