How to Disappear Completely...

dis·ap·pear 

[dis-uh-peer]

verb (used without object)

1.

to cease to be seen; vanish from sight.

2.

to cease to exist or be known; pass away; end gradually: One by one the symptoms disappeared.

3.

(of a person) to vanish under suspicious circumstances: The dictator's outspoken opponent disappeared that evening, shortly after midnight.

Red glow aura coasts a permanent glow against my walls, those portions not concealed by stilled silhouettes, striking images and half familiar faces. There is another glow nearer to me, an undeniable glow emanating from a box atop a table. The box contains a window that does not reveal what is inside the box. Instead, light is projected through this window, translated into it's own images that move in repetitions. This causes the shadows cast throughout my space to dance effervescently back and forth, not really going anywhere. This room is strange and different, unfamiliar in a way. Although I have striven to leave my mark, to convey what is inside me to the walls outside of me. These walls that surround me, they seem so tight. Some nights I swear they move closer inwards, a millimeter at a time. Despite this perception, simultaneously, this space seems extend infinitely in it's loneliness. No matter how I try to fill it, no matter what the wallpaper, no matter where I may  place this object here or move that object away from there - it still feels so empty. I have spent many moments such as this, many sleepless nights awake here, the days wash together and yet I still feel the stranger. This is not a cage, there is a door, it's locked from the inside. This isn't a hole, for there are many windows to the outside world. My presence is by choice. I choose to be here, to remain here, to live my life in this place. It is because this is where I belong, and I belong here because this is where life has led me. I have many things to pass the time, to occupy my mind, to make this place mine. I have words to speak. There is air to breath. I am free to think and do as I please. I may come and go as I may. Yet something seems to be missing as if there were a large hole in the center of this space where I cannot seem to find anything that fits. The shape of the hole is indistinguishable. I am unable to fill it with any object. This hole never moves and yet it flows inside and out, within and without of itself. Like a hole it is dark, blackened. But unlike most holes, this one has no bottom, it has no end. It is the opposite of space, rather; it is the absence of space. It's only consistency is a constant and biting emptiness that tugs at my heart with every glimpse I steal. Every moment that passes, every image imprinted upon my mind, that same emptiness grows within me. The buzzing refrigerator and an endless cycle of tunes are all that keep me company. A pencil and a notebook together allow me to reflect the emptiness I feel. Draining it from my heart and out through my fingertips onto sheets of paper that lay crumbled, torn and folded on the floor. Unfortunately for me, that shallow form of self expression does little against this burden I feel growing within. Perhaps that hole is not a hole at all. Perhaps it is an open window, like the one in the box, but to what is it open? Could the window of the hole lead to another place? A place like this one, heavy in atmosphere, moody, brooding and colorful. A space like this one, glowing and flowing red light, with blue and purple neon bright ribbons that drift casually and aimlessly through the air. Maybe it is an entire world of space that runs on eternally into the distance, a place where the horizon goes on forever. A space where wonderful rhythms and beautiful melodies collide with one another among the starlit sky in bursts of bright colors. A place where to which I would never be a stranger, where daydreams and slumbers are one in the same. A place like that I could call home. Certainly more than the one I am in. Maybe that hole is not empty at all. I could be projecting the emptiness I feel and always have felt in my heart into something so mysterious to me. My fear of the perilous possibilities of the unknown could be preventing me from finding a true sense of belonging and purpose, a place to finally call my own. I could walk into that black hole in the center of the room, the swirling emptiness, the open window to another world. I could dive into that black hole and float spiraling away from all that I fear. I could step into that which I fear with an open heart and know that I would be entering a place where I would never feel alone again. I would lose all sense of emptiness, unhappiness and loneliness with all their definitions. This is how I would leave this world I thought I knew but never felt a part of, to a world I have always known and will forever be a part of. This is how I would disappear completely.

Is there anybody out there?

I was in the shower, struggling to allow the water to wash away my pain, my sadness and my loneliness. Today I have given up. After a series of events leading up to this day, I have realized that I cannot get a grip on myself. How much longer must I go on carrying this burden? I bear a cross of guilt and shame that has no destination. On my it forever remains.

There are only a few people in the world who have experienced depression as deep as I have, of this I am sure. All those artists and musicians that lead tragic lives and died tragically. All those lost souls who vanished into obscurity, feeling so deeply that they were meant for something great - but life showed them otherwise. I don't know where among those I fit. Somewhere down the middle I suppose. I have been through this feeling so many times in my life, yet it never gets easier to deal with. When the depression sets in, I feel I lose a piece of myself ever single time. How much longer do I have before every shred of my soul has been lost to the abyss and I am left only as a shell of something that once was strong and beautiful.

As I stood under the rushing water, I scrubbed and scrubbed and washed away all that I could. But I couldn't get past that first layer that seems to be impossible to pass through without the help of a sharp edge. I have seen my blood enough times in my life - more than should be necessary. My heart felt gravity pull against the sinking feeling that grew within it. The ambient white noise of the water droplets against the tub drowned out most of the world outside of that small patch of space. All that made it through was the beautiful, somber and sad music pouring from my speakers. It was the only connection my soul was able to make of the outside world. I felt my strength leave me, not my physical strength, but the strength that comes from the emotional self that is held up by the foundation made up of my mind. Suddenly, all at once I felt it run out of my body as if it withdrew from each pore, every orifice, every crease to join the water falling from my body down to the drain below. If it weren't for the minute physical strength that I still had, I would have fallen to the floor of the tub and never gotten back up. All that I could do was lean my body against the wall. Close my eyes. Press my palms against the wall and caress it. I felt I was no longer against only a wall, but the world itself. As if I could look right through that wall like a window and see all that I wish could be mine but wasn't. At that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of abandonment, intense loneliness that should never be felt.

                                 If only I had someone there with me, who could understand. Someone I could hold, to whisper in my ear so I knew they were really there. A warm body I could envelop and intertwine with, our naked bodies and pale skin flush against one another as the water ran over us, washing away all pain, all sadness and all the loneliness either of us had ever felt in our lives and would never feel again. If only...