I am besieged by the overwhelming, unabating, piercing light. I shield my eyes to no avail. The light is everywhere. It touches every nook and cranny of the city, accenting the delicate brick buildings of the local shops aside the cascading skyline of prominent and boisterous skyscrapers that gleam like eyes of a mother holding her newborn baby. It’s incredible. Enough to lift the spirits and give hope to the weak. Enough to wish death upon oneself for the sake of basking in such paradise. It’s bliss and ecstasy all wrapped up in one succulent package.
Maybe I’ve been standing in it for too long. And worse, I’m tortured knowing that this one irrationally exquisite state of being is all I’ll ever know. And I hate myself. I hate myself for hating it. I hate myself for my inability to embrace such beauty, kindness, and searing love. But I can’t.
I’m not the only one. Around me exists a plethora of sickness, depression, and apathy like I’ve never seen before. The fact that I’m even thinking puts me far beyond most of my peers.
Off to my right – a beautiful man, beaming with the glow of heaven everywhere except his face. In his face exists… nothing. A vacant look for a vacant soul. He’s slouched ungracefully in the corner of an intricately designed stone architecture, not a hint of trash for miles – actually, there’s no trash here anywhere; I’m still getting used to that. He’s wearing tailored slacks, a fine silk shirt, leather shoes… the dichotomy between his appearance and the lifelessness in his eyes is…
I dare a glance towards the bridge. A woman is plodding slowly towards it. Her fine apparel, gorgeous hair, and exquisite posture would’ve belonged only to royalty in a previous world.
But I know where she’s going. That bridge has built a reputation.
I turn to my left where one of the joyfuls is hopping around, beaming with glee, looking ridiculous in his lack of awareness of the misery surrounding him. Not that the miserable would care. They’re gone. They lost their minds long ago.
And I hope I am next.