Human beings (or a misanthropist’s nightmare)
It was a late hour of the night, and I somehow felt sleepy, so I decided to go to bed. Was I sleepy or simply discouraged of life? Did I want to sleep to “recharge my batteries” or to take a short break from life’s agitation?
I took a shower. I rubbed my skin until it turned red. I could still feel their eyes on me.
I brushed my teeth. Once. Twice. I brushed my teeth until my gums bled. I could still feel their lips on mine.
But I felt that it wasn’t enough. I washed my hands. With soap, once. Twice. I washed my hands with alcohol. I could still feel their hands in mine. I wished I could burn my skin to get over that sensation.
Then I went to bed, and like a child, I fearfully looked under my bed in case there was a monster hiding. I was in fact much more afraid to find a human being.
Then I slept, and began to dream.
I dreamt that it was the next morning, that I woke up suddenly, and I was standing on a rope. I looked down, and immediately looked straight ahead of me. I was hanging in the void. I couldn’t make out the end of this rope I was on, and I didn’t know what miracle was keeping me from falling, even though God knows how dizzy I was.
Suddenly I saw ears, coming out from nowhere. I screamed, and screamed for help. But they’d pass by, deaf.
Then I saw eyes, I thought they saw me in that dangerous position, but they seemed to be made of glass, and they’d pass by, blind. Some of them were blinded by bloody tears; some of them were blinded by acid. And the rest were just staring at me with a lustful glint, or mockery in their iris, making me feel naked, helpless, and soiled.
Then I saw lips, coming out from nowhere. They tried to comfort me, they smiled, and kissed me, and when they saw me appeased, they laughed, and their mocking laughter was filled with bitter cruelty.
Then I saw hands, coming out from nowhere. They seemed friendly. Their palm was open, like if they wanted to help me, to drag me safely to mainland. But each time I’d touch one, it would disappear, and I’d hold another one so I won’t fall. I tried to find one helping hand in nearly 12 milliards. But they all disappeared, one after the other. And I fell, and fell.
I woke up suddenly, sweating, shaking, and screaming.
It was only a dream.
But was it really a dream? Or was it a memory?
For I still feel myself falling.
I still feel their indifference.
I still feel their lewd eyes on me.
I still feel their lips on me, I still hear their lies.
And I still feel their hands on me.
Human beings.


~*Misanthropic Archangel*~

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