Watching from a glasshouse

A deafening eerie silence surrounding me in my glasshouse, detaching me from everything
Looking outside from my glasshouse voices slowly fade away in the void that is my mind.
The reflection of the light from the outside hits my eyes and makes me look away.
Faces and places dance in front of me.
Looking at the glass, footages of unedited film run in front of me. It doesn’t make sense.
Nothing does.
Sometimes it amuses me but at other times the air runs out and suffocates me.
I clutch my chest and take deep even breaths.
1… my chest widens
2…. it retreats
3….. widens again
4….. retreats… on and on

But the air runs away. I freak out trying to grab the remaining oxygen with my fist.
I clutch my fist tightly but the air manages to seep out of the gaps between my fingers.
I near my hand to my nose and inhale the remaining air to fill my thirsty lungs, slowly…
But it doesn’t suffice.

I bang on the glass and scream; the swarming masses passing in front of the glass go on about their routine. I bang harder but they don’t turn to me.

The air is just centimeters away yet it can’t reach me because of the barrier between us… that invisible barrier.

I scream louder and bang harder, before I know it tears are gushing out of my eyes.
I cup my hands and let the tears fill them up and drink the salty tear water to end that quenching thirst.
It slides down my throat slowly burning my insides… instead of healing them.

I look outside, from that isolated wall. Without the noise everything around me looks peaceful. Why did I ever enter that house? , I wonder.

They look so happy out there. Looking around me at that empty space, the void around me was so empty. It lacked the warmth of a human company. It was chilly.
Maybe I’d be happier if there was someone to laugh and joke with.
Two lovers passed by the house, their fingers entwined.
Kids were tossing around a red Frisbee and running after it, shoving one another, their little curious eyes glowing.
A bunch of friends were laughing hysterically. I couldn’t laugh with them. I didn’t understand. It was probably an inside joke.
Happy faces passing by gave me a sense of loss, an emptiness, a craving for a special someone.
Right then I smashed the glass door sucking in the air that I was longing for, for so long.

I breathed in but it got stuck in my throat and I coughed. The air around me was polluted; I could see the molecules of dirt swarming around.
I looked at the children and there at the very end sat a little kid alone, yearning for a day to play. He was skinny and frail. His eyes met mine and gave me a knowing look.
The friends I’ve seen earlier were making fun of a person they knew….
I ran away to my shattered house, took a tiny piece of glass and sliced my flesh.
The little boy turned away and I stood there watching as my blood was dripping on my feet… longing for my self-made quarantine.

I thought I'd post this one as a last post because it's the reason I named the blog watching from a glasshouse and it summarized my state of mind during the time of owning this blog.