How did you really get here?
It began so long ago, much longer ago than you think.
You were innocently trying to find something.
Now you wish you had never tried.
Cause now you’re lost, within yourself.
For so long you’ve been trying to get back.
Remember how you got here. Remember where you came from.
But it’s so dark that you can’t even see your own hands. It’s so cold that you can’t feel them.
At first you tried to keep track of time. But in this infinite darkness, nothing could separate one minute, day or year from the other. You could, might as well, have been here for centuries. How would you know?
And here you are, forced to go through the most horrible scenes of harm, violence and shame from your life, over and over again. In most scenes, you’re not the victim.
You are the perpetrator.
You’re always afraid.
You’ve spent most of your time trying to fall asleep, but you know it’s hopeless. You haven’t slept at all for as long you’ve been here. At the same time, in some ways, you are already asleep.
You don’t know what’s worst. To feel that you’re completely alone or to feel that you aren’t.
At some times you feel that someone’s there. You can almost hear the horrid malicious laughter, and the sounds of somebody running back and forth outside your door. Or are they already inside the room? Are they watching you right now? From the darkest corner, suddenly brought to life right from the shadows?
The blood freezes in your veins. Every muscle in your body is tensed.
It’s so silent that your brain starts to make up all kinds of absurd noises just to cover up the silence.
And there you lie for hours on end, days or even weeks, just waiting for something to happen.
Other times you just lie there on your back, staring up at the ceiling, or perhaps the sky, or whatever is above you. At first you aren’t afraid, because you can’t feel any kind of insidious presence anymore. Then you realise that you can’t feel any presence at all. You can’t feel anything. You can’t see anything, or hear anything. You can neither smell nor taste anything. Have all your senses suddenly ceased to work or have you just ceased to feel anything just because there isn’t anything there to feel?
Are you the only thing left in this world?
You come to realise that you haven’t really got the faintest idea whether you are really lying down on the floor at all. Perhaps there isn’t any ceiling or sky above you, perhaps there is nothing at all above you. Perhaps you are staring straight down to hell without realising it. Or perhaps you are already there yourself.
But suddenly you remember.
Suddenly you feel it. It’s like feeling your old bedclothes when you go to sleep after being on a long holiday. No matter how much you liked to be away, to see new places, you feel calm in a different way when you’re home again. You feel safe.
You taste it, you smell it. It’s like hot cocoa on Christmas morning. A proof that no matter how many things that might have changed, some things remain the same, some things will not leave you. Some things, even if they are such small things, will always be there in the same way, no matter how lost you are. You feel that you belong.
You see it. It’s like seeing the face of somebody you haven’t met in a long time. Somebody you always loved and admired, but lost contact with. You hardly dare to look at the person, afraid that she doesn’t want to see you. But she suddenly embraces you as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You feel loved.
You hear it. It’s like suddenly hear a song you used to love as a child. A song that you had forgotten long ago, but now you get reminded of it and it brings back you many memories. It’s that kind of song which makes you want to throw your arms up in the air and turn you face up towards the sun. You feel the sunlight warm your face. You feel that you actually are from somewhere. You have a history. You are alive.
But suddenly it withers. All the memories are slowly disappearing like sand between your fingers and you’re desperately trying to get hold of them again, but nothing helps.
The fabric under your skin suddenly feels uncomfortable and wrong. You’re not home. You’re somewhere else. You’re not safe.
The cup of cocoa hits the floor and breaks. You don’t belong anywhere.
The person takes one look at you and pretends not to recognise you. She turns around and walks away. You’re not loved.
The slow tunes of music slowly disappear and leave you alone in the cold darkness.
You’re not alive.
And suddenly you’re back in the infinite darkness. You never left.